 | Collected poems of Henry Thoreau |  |
246
IN TIMES OF YORE, 'TIS SAID, THE SWIMMING ALDER
In times of yore, 'tis said, the swimming Alder,
Fashioned rude, with branches lopt, and stript
Of its smooth coat,—
Where fallen tree was not, and rippling stream's
Vast breadth forbade adventurous leap,
The brawny swain did bear secure to farthest shore.
Fashioned rude, with branches lopt, and stript
Of its smooth coat,—
Where fallen tree was not, and rippling stream's
Vast breadth forbade adventurous leap,
The brawny swain did bear secure to farthest shore.
The Book has passed away,
And with the book the lay,
Which in my youthful days I loved to ponder;
Of curious things it told,
How wise Men Three of old, (Gotham)
In bowl did venture out to sea,—
And darkly hints their future fate.
And with the book the lay,
Which in my youthful days I loved to ponder;
Of curious things it told,
How wise Men Three of old, (Gotham)
In bowl did venture out to sea,—
And darkly hints their future fate.
If men have dared the Main to tempt
In such frail bark, why may not washtub round,
Or bread-trough square? oblong?—suffice to cross
The purling wave? and gain the destined port.
In such frail bark, why may not washtub round,
Or bread-trough square? oblong?—suffice to cross
The purling wave? and gain the destined port.
| Collected poems of Henry Thoreau | |