 | The Poems of Robert Bloomfield |  |
No loitering here, lone walks to steal;
Ours was the early hunter's meal;
For time and tide, stern couple, ran
Their endless race, and laugh'd at man;
Deaf, had we shouted, “turn about,”
Or, “wait awhile, till we come out:”
To humour them we check'd our pride,
And ten cheer'd hearts stow'd side by side,
Push'd from the shore with current strong,
And “Hey for Chepstow,” steer'd along.
Ours was the early hunter's meal;
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Their endless race, and laugh'd at man;
Deaf, had we shouted, “turn about,”
Or, “wait awhile, till we come out:”
To humour them we check'd our pride,
And ten cheer'd hearts stow'd side by side,
Push'd from the shore with current strong,
And “Hey for Chepstow,” steer'd along.
| The Poems of Robert Bloomfield | |