Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

And then the bagpipes he could blow; And thus from house to house would go, And all were pleas'd to hear and see; For none made sweeter melody

Than did the poor blind Boy.

Yet he had many a restless dream; Both when he heard the Eagles scream, And when he heard the torrents roar, And heard the water beat the shore

Near which their Cottage stood.

Beside a lake their Cottage stood,
Not small like ours, a peaceful flood;
But one of mighty size, and strange;
That, rough or smooth, is full of change,
And stirring in its bed.

For to this Lake, by night and day,

The great Sea-water finds its way

Through long, long windings of the hills; And drinks up all the pretty rills

And rivers large and strong:

Then hurries back the road it came-
Returns, on errand still the same;
This did it when the earth was new;

And this for evermore will do,

As long as earth shall last.

And, with the coming of the Tide,
Come Boats and Ships, that sweetly ride,
Between the woods and lofty rocks;

And to the Shepherds with their Flocks

Brings tales of distant Lands,

And of those tales, what'eer they were,

The blind Boy always had his share;
Whether of mighty Towns, or Vales

With warmer suns and softer gales,
Or wonders of the Deep.

Yet more it pleased him, more it stirr❜d, When from the water-side he heard

The shouting, and the jolly cheers,

The bustle of the mariners

In stillness or in storm.

But what do his desires avail?

For He must never handle sail;

Nor mount the mast, nor row, nor float

In Sailor's ship or Fisher's boat

Upon the rocking waves.

His Mother often thought, and said,
What sin would be upon her head
If she should suffer this: " My Son,
Whate'er you do, leave this undone;
The danger is so great."

Thus lived he by Loch Levin's side Still sounding with the sounding tide, And heard the billows leap and dance, Without a shadow of mischance,

Till he was ten years old.

When one day (and now mark me well, You soon shall know how this befel)

He's in a vessel of his own,

On the swift water hurrying down

Towards the mighty Sea.

In such a vessel ne'er before

Did human Creature leave the shore:

If this or that way he should stir,

Woe to the poor blind Mariner!

For death will be his doom.

Strong is the current; but be mild,

Ye waves, and spare the helpless Child! If ye in anger fret or chafe,

A Bee-hive would be ship as safe

As that in which he sails.

But say, what was it? Thought of fear!

Well may ye

tremble when ye hear!

-A Household Tub, like one of those

Which women use to wash their clothes,

This carried the blind Boy.

« AnteriorContinuar »