[Poems by Hovey in] Dartmouth Lyrics a collection of poems from the undergraduate publications of Dartmouth College |
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 | [Poems by Hovey in] Dartmouth Lyrics |  |
24
“SUB JOVE FRIGIDO.’
Merrily the sleigh-bells jingle
Through the frosty air,—
Uphill, downhill, past the lair
Where the merry brownies mingle.
How the red cheeks tingle, tingle!
How the hostlers swear!
Merrily the sleigh-bells jingle
Through the frosty air.
Through the frosty air,—
Uphill, downhill, past the lair
Where the merry brownies mingle.
How the red cheeks tingle, tingle!
How the hostlers swear!
Merrily the sleigh-bells jingle
Through the frosty air.
But for me the roaring ingle,
Dozing warm and cosy there,
Tipping in the easy-chair,
While far down the snow-clad dingle
Merrily the sleigh-bells jingle
Through the frosty air.
Dozing warm and cosy there,
Tipping in the easy-chair,
While far down the snow-clad dingle
Merrily the sleigh-bells jingle
Through the frosty air.
73
SONG.
There's a song in my soul that is growing—
A seed, O my star in the night!
That was dropped in my heart in the sowing,
And is struggling for life in the light;—
A breeze that is gentle and stilly,
And has passed through a garden in bloom,
And is sweet with the scent of the lily,
And rich with the rose's perfume.
A seed, O my star in the night!
That was dropped in my heart in the sowing,
And is struggling for life in the light;—
A breeze that is gentle and stilly,
And has passed through a garden in bloom,
And is sweet with the scent of the lily,
And rich with the rose's perfume.
'T is a rosebud whose petals are blushing
With its half-hidden longing to blow,—
A fountain, whose waters are gushing
From deeps where the spirit-tides flow.
And as out of a bower of bushes
A bird unexpectedly starts,
So the song unexpectedly rushes
From the depth of my heart of hearts.
With its half-hidden longing to blow,—
A fountain, whose waters are gushing
From deeps where the spirit-tides flow.
And as out of a bower of bushes
A bird unexpectedly starts,
So the song unexpectedly rushes
From the depth of my heart of hearts.
74
As the bird takes flight through the air
And alights on a stately pine,
So flies from me theeward, my fair,
The song that was mine and is thine.
For I am the bush-made bower,
And thou art the stately tree,
And my song is the bird, O my flower,
And the bird has a message for thee.
And alights on a stately pine,
So flies from me theeward, my fair,
The song that was mine and is thine.
For I am the bush-made bower,
And thou art the stately tree,
And my song is the bird, O my flower,
And the bird has a message for thee.
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