 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
143
THE COTTAGE BY THE SEA.
There's a lonely cottage that stands by the sea,
A dreary old pile to view;
The winds howl around it most dismally,
And whistle its crannies through.
A dreary old pile to view;
The winds howl around it most dismally,
And whistle its crannies through.
The salt spray whitens its walls of clay,
And gleams in its roof of thatch,
And the swallows build in its chimney gray,
And their young in quiet hatch.
And gleams in its roof of thatch,
And the swallows build in its chimney gray,
And their young in quiet hatch.
'T is here the hardy fisherman dwells,—
The fisherman bold and free;
He knows the tale that the bluff wind tells,
And the whisperings of the sea.
The fisherman bold and free;
He knows the tale that the bluff wind tells,
And the whisperings of the sea.
He reads the stars, like a book, by night;
And the bright auroral rim,
That arches the north with its mystical light,
Has a meaning deep to him.
And the bright auroral rim,
That arches the north with its mystical light,
Has a meaning deep to him.
144
The tides that flow and the winds that blow,
And the sea-birds on the wing,
And the clouds that rise in the changing skies,
To him all wisdom bring.
And the sea-birds on the wing,
And the clouds that rise in the changing skies,
To him all wisdom bring.
He launches his boat on the heaving wave,
Where, far down its crystal deep,
The ocean's tenants in freedom lave,
Or in peaceful shallows sleep.
Where, far down its crystal deep,
The ocean's tenants in freedom lave,
Or in peaceful shallows sleep.
He casts his line where the fishes shine,
In the breast of the generous sea;
And he utters a prayer,—“O, motherly Mer,
Be bountiful unto me!”
In the breast of the generous sea;
And he utters a prayer,—“O, motherly Mer,
Be bountiful unto me!”
And the motherly sea her stores unseals,
And she gives with a ready hand;
More lavish and free are the fruits of the sea
Than the yield of the sluggish land.
And she gives with a ready hand;
More lavish and free are the fruits of the sea
Than the yield of the sluggish land.
There's the fisherman's waiting wife at home,
And the fisherman's boys and girls,
And that little one, who will laughingly run,
To kiss him through her curls.
And the fisherman's boys and girls,
And that little one, who will laughingly run,
To kiss him through her curls.
Then his boat glides over the yielding spray,
As he bends to the ashen oar;
And his quick ear hears, from afar away,
A welcoming cry from the shore.
As he bends to the ashen oar;
And his quick ear hears, from afar away,
A welcoming cry from the shore.
145
Thus the fisherman lives most happy and free,
Nor other wealth doth crave
Than the blessing of love and his liberty,
And the product of the wave.
Nor other wealth doth crave
Than the blessing of love and his liberty,
And the product of the wave.
No palace of wealth, with gorgeous state,
No castle of high degree,
Contains a joy more pure or great
Than the cottage by the sea.
No castle of high degree,
Contains a joy more pure or great
Than the cottage by the sea.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |