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Or have tasted the bag of the bee?
Oh, so white! oh, so soft! oh, so sweet, is she!
From "The Triumph of Charis.”
I Love My Jean
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best;
There wild woods grow, and rivers row,
But day and night my fancy's flight
I see her in the dewy flowers,
I hear her charm the air:
But minds me o' my Jean.
My Nannie's Awa'
Now in her green mantle blythe nature arrays,
The snaw-drap an' primrose our woodlands adorn,
Thou lav'rock that springs frae the dews of the
The shepherd to warn o' the gray-breaking dawn,
Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow an' gray,
The World of Waters
"The sea has the sun for a harper." She has also among her myriad worshippers Swinburne, the poet-harpist, who sweeps all the strings of his noble instrument in her praise.
There can be no worthier introduction to a group of sea-poems than lines "all gold seven times refined," selected almost at random from a great poet whom you will be glad to read later on.
"Green earth has her sons and her daughters,
"She is pure as the wind and the sun,
And her sweetness endureth forever."
"For the wind, with his wings half open, at pause
Leans waveward and flutters the ripple to laughter!"
"But for hours upon hours
As a thrall she remains
Spell-bound as with flowers
And content in their chains,
And her loud steeds fret not, and lift not a lock
“And all the rippling green grew royal gold
"Where the horn of the headland is sharper
The sun has the sea for a lyre.”
* The waves are a pavement of amber,