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nd scattering them in fragments underfoot.
crisp were some, they rattled unevolved,
thers, ere broken off, fell into shells,

or such appear the petals when detached,
nbending, brittle, lucid, white like snow,
nd like snow not seen thro', by eye or sun:
et every one her gown received from me
as fairer than the first. I thought not so,
t so she praised them to reward my care.
said, "You find the largest."

"This indeed,"

ied she, "is large and sweet." She held one forth, hether for me to look at or to take

e knew not, nor did I; but taking it

ould best have solved (and this she felt) her doubt.
Hared not touch it; for it seemed a part

I her own self; fresh, full, the most mature
I blossoms, yet a blossom; with a touch
o fall, and yet unfallen. She drew back
e boon she tendered, and then, finding not
e ribbon at her waist to fix it in,

opped it, as loath to drop it, on the rest.

Walter Savage Landor

3 A WINNOWER OF WHEAT TO THE WINDS1

you, aërial band,

Two

Who fly above the land

With transitory wings,

And whistling on your way

The greenwood shadows sway

In gentle balancings,

The translation is by George Wyndham, and is reprinted with the mission of Macmillan & Co., Ltd.

224

F

I give these violets,
These lilies and flow'rets,

And these roses to you,

Roses to wonder on,

Being so newly blown,

And these carnations too.

With breathing sweet and soft,

Blow hither o'er the croft,

Blow hither o'er the lay:

The weary while I strain
At winnowing my grain

Through the white heat of day.

Joachim du Bellay

A MODERN GEORGIC

THE STEAM THRESHING-MACHINE

WITH THE STRAW CARRIER

LUSH with the pond the lurid furnace burned

At eve, while smoke and vapor filled the yard;
The gloomy winter sky was dimly starred,
The fly-wheel with a mellow murmur turned;

While, ever rising on its mystic stair

In the dim light, from secret chambers borne,
The straw of harvest, severed from the corn,
Climbed, and fell over, in the murky air.

I thought of mind and matter, will and law,
And then of him, who set his stately seal
Of Roman words on all the forms he saw
Of old-world husbandry: I could but feel
With what a rich precision he would draw
The endless ladder, and the booming wheel!
Charles Tennyson-Turner

Croft: field

Lay: lea, meadow

25

WHEN icicles hang by the wall,

WHEN

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,

And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail;
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit!

Tu-who! A merry note!

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all about the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl-
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit!

Tu-who! A merry note!

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

26

William Shakespeare

THE GRASSHOPPER1

APPY insect, what can be

HAPP

In happiness compared to thee?

Fed with nourishment divine,
The dewy morning's gentle wine!
Nature waits upon thee still,

And thy verdant cup does fill;

1 Translated by Abraham Cowley. eel: cool by stirring

'Tis filled wherever thou dost tread,
Nature's self's thy Ganymede.

Thou dost drink and dance and sing,
Happier than the happiest king!
All the fields which thou dost see,
All the plants belong to thee;
All the summer hours produce,
Fertile made with early juice.
Man for thee does sow and plow,
Farmer he, and landlord thou!
Thou dost innocently enjoy,
Nor does thy luxury destroy.
The shepherd gladly heareth thee,

More harmonious than he.

Thee country hinds with gladness hear,

Prophet of the ripened year!

Thee Phoebus loves, and does inspire;

Phoebus is himself thy sire.

To thee, of all things upon earth,

Life is no longer than thy mirth.
Happy insect, happy thou,

Dost neither age nor winter know;

But when thou'st drunk and danced and sung
Thy fill, the flowery leaves among

(Voluptuous and wise withal,
Epicurean animal!),

Sated with thy summer feast,
Thou retir'st to endless rest.

Anacreon

:

?27

ON A FAVORITE CAT, DROWNED IN A

TUB OF GOLDFISHES

'WAS on a lofty vase's side,

'TW

Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,

Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declared:
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,

Her coat that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.

Still had she gazed, but 'midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armor's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.

The hapless Nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw

With many an ardent wish

She stretched, in vain, to reach the prize-
What female heart can gold despise?

What Cat's averse to Fish?

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretched, again she bent,

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