 | Beads from a Rosary |  |
97
ANGLER'S CHANT.
Wandering by the streams apart,
Glad and calm as they;
Plying still my simple art,
All the livelong day;
Seeking out the shadiest nooks
Of the winding woodland brooks,
Where the pearly waters sleep
In their quiet pools, and deep;
Where the greedy trout doth lie,
Ready for the ensnaring fly;—
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
Glad and calm as they;
Plying still my simple art,
All the livelong day;
Seeking out the shadiest nooks
Of the winding woodland brooks,
Where the pearly waters sleep
In their quiet pools, and deep;
Where the greedy trout doth lie,
Ready for the ensnaring fly;—
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
98
Ere the bird hath hail'd the light,
With his matin hymn;
Ere the sun hath put to flight
Mists and vapours dim;
Forth through meadows, wet with dew,
I my wonted path pursue,
Drinking in the morning wind,
Leaving weariness behind,
Smiling with the smiling sky,
Singing ever joyously,
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
With his matin hymn;
Ere the sun hath put to flight
Mists and vapours dim;
Forth through meadows, wet with dew,
I my wonted path pursue,
Drinking in the morning wind,
Leaving weariness behind,
Smiling with the smiling sky,
Singing ever joyously,
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
Pleasant thoughts, be sure, are mine,
Hopes as pleasant too,
When the river's silvery line
Opens to my view.
Ah, how little dream the crowd,
'Midst the city's tumult loud,
How much pure and real bliss,
May be found in scenes like this;
If they doubt the verity,
Let them hearken to my cry,
Who so free from weeping sorrow
And from care, as I?
Hopes as pleasant too,
When the river's silvery line
Opens to my view.
Ah, how little dream the crowd,
'Midst the city's tumult loud,
How much pure and real bliss,
May be found in scenes like this;
99
Let them hearken to my cry,
Who so free from weeping sorrow
And from care, as I?
Food, for deep delight, I find
Unexhausted round;
In the sunbeam and the wind,
In the river's sound;
And, when heavily I feel,
Struggling fish within my creel,—
When the eddying waters flash
At the monster's sullen dash,
More and more exultingly
Doth my joyous spirit cry,
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
Unexhausted round;
In the sunbeam and the wind,
In the river's sound;
And, when heavily I feel,
Struggling fish within my creel,—
When the eddying waters flash
At the monster's sullen dash,
More and more exultingly
Doth my joyous spirit cry,
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
Thou, who heapest, day by day,
Wealth, that cannot aid,
Cast thy weary load away,—
Come and try my trade!
Soon, or I mistake, thou'lt see,
A far richer argosy,
In the wealth by nature poured
At thy feet, a boundless hoard.
Soon, I wot, right heartily,
Thou wilt join my song, and cry,
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
Wealth, that cannot aid,
100
Come and try my trade!
Soon, or I mistake, thou'lt see,
A far richer argosy,
In the wealth by nature poured
At thy feet, a boundless hoard.
Soon, I wot, right heartily,
Thou wilt join my song, and cry,
Who so free from weeping sorrow,
And from care, as I?
| Beads from a Rosary | |