 | Songs of two centuries |  |
69
TO GO A-SWIMMING.
There's a red-letter page that is brighter for its age,
And the finger-marks of Time are never dimming;
It has very much to say of a hot summer day,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming.
Creeping through lengthy grass while dancing shadows pass,
Threading deep haunted woods where the squirrel stows his goods,
And birds nested high teach their little ones to fly,
Where the grape-cluster shines in a wilderness of vines,
Where are mossy pillows green not a slumberer hath seen,
And the red flowers grow in a blossom-drift of snow;—
It was maybe twice as gay that we felt a bit astray,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming!
And the finger-marks of Time are never dimming;
It has very much to say of a hot summer day,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming.
Creeping through lengthy grass while dancing shadows pass,
Threading deep haunted woods where the squirrel stows his goods,
And birds nested high teach their little ones to fly,
Where the grape-cluster shines in a wilderness of vines,
Where are mossy pillows green not a slumberer hath seen,
And the red flowers grow in a blossom-drift of snow;—
It was maybe twice as gay that we felt a bit astray,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming!
And the river and the pool were so heaven-like and cool,
With fresh baby-breezes over-skimming;
Everything well contrived for a pleasure short-lived,
When we runaways arrived to go a-swimming!
Now all ready—now a plunge! and our bodies, like a sponge
That unduly dry has been, seem to drink the water in;
We are groping in the caves of the cold silent waves,
We are climbing to the air, flinging torrents from our hair,
And we struggle to and fro through the ripples' gentle flow,
And we duels gaily fight with the plashing waters bright,
On each other, through the fray, flinging barrels-full of spray;
Oh! the mad and merry day we went a-swimming!
With fresh baby-breezes over-skimming;
Everything well contrived for a pleasure short-lived,
When we runaways arrived to go a-swimming!
Now all ready—now a plunge! and our bodies, like a sponge
That unduly dry has been, seem to drink the water in;
We are groping in the caves of the cold silent waves,
We are climbing to the air, flinging torrents from our hair,
And we struggle to and fro through the ripples' gentle flow,
And we duels gaily fight with the plashing waters bright,
On each other, through the fray, flinging barrels-full of spray;
Oh! the mad and merry day we went a-swimming!
Now the moral of this rhyme is for youth's careless time,
Full of good, sober counsel it is brimming:
In your labor or your play, your superiors obey;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming.
Though the flower-jewels shine with a radiance divine,
And the daisy-blossoms creep in the meadows half asleep,
And the clouds are like a high floating castle in the sky,
And the forest-branches dumb wink and beckon you to come,
And a shady nook you know where the dainty billows flow,
Whose delicious quiet charms would fold you in their arms—
Be obedient while you may; on the shore of duty stay;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming!
Full of good, sober counsel it is brimming:
In your labor or your play, your superiors obey;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming.
70
And the daisy-blossoms creep in the meadows half asleep,
And the clouds are like a high floating castle in the sky,
And the forest-branches dumb wink and beckon you to come,
And a shady nook you know where the dainty billows flow,
Whose delicious quiet charms would fold you in their arms—
Be obedient while you may; on the shore of duty stay;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming!
| Songs of two centuries | |