Peradventure, A Lancelet.
here is. truly something inspiring in the
ocean waves as in their ever changing
upon the shore. And the author of S
;" in the Nassau Lit., was evidently either
breakers themselves, or dreaming of some h
y when he lingered by the sea.
A SONG OF TH4 'WANTS,
All day long, we sing, we sing,
When the west winds hover low,
As arm in arm we onward swing,
Yet neither fast nor slow;
But with an easy rhythmic roll
That's half a song itself,
We drift o'er reef and hidden shoal
And the deep sea's pearl-strewn pe
With a throw, a forward throw
With a long, long swing;
As neither fast nor slow,
In an arm-locked row,
We swing, swing, swing.
On I Who would not whirl
When the east winds moan and sig
When the typhons sweep and curl,
And the sea-gulls battling cry ?
Haste I though we know not where,'
For the wild dance leads us on;
Haste, for our only care
Is to dance ere the storm be gone.
With a throw, a forward throe
Ho, how the typhoons curl !
On, on, we know not where--
Bo we dance we do not care--
We whirl, whirl, whirl !