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Oh, sweet it was in Avès to hear the landward
breeze, A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the
trees, With a negro lass to fan you, while you listen'd to
the roar Of the breakers on the reef outside, that never
touched the shore. But Scripture saith, an ending to all fine things
must be; So the king's ships sailed on Avès, and quite put
down were we. All day we fought like bull-dogs, but they burst
the booms at night; And I fled in a piragua, sore wounded, from the
fight. Nine days I floated starving, and a negro lass
beside, Till for all I tried to cheer her, the poor young
thing, she died; But as I lay a-gasping, a Bristol sail came by And brought me home to England here, to beg
until I die. And now I'm old and going-I'm sure I can't tell
where; One comfort is, this world's so hard, I can't be
worse off there : If I might but be a sea-dove, I'd fly across the
main, To the pleasant isle of Avès, to look at it once
THE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON-LOW-A
And where have you been from me ?
The Midsummer night to see !”
All up on the Caldon-Low ?”
And I saw the merry winds blow.”
All up on the Caldon Hill?"
And the green corn ears to fill.”
All, all that ever you know;
Last night on the Caldon-Low.”
And listen, mother of mine :
And the harpers they were nine.
And their dancing feet so small;
Was merrier far than all !”
That you did hear them say ?”
But let me have my way!
“ And some they played with the water,
And rolled it down the hill ;
The poor old miller's mill;
Ever since the first of May ;
By the dawning of the day !
When he sees the mill-dam rise !
Till the tears fill both his eyes!'
That sounded over the hill,
And blew so sharp and shrill :“And there,' said they, 'the merry winds go, "
Away from every horn;
From the blind old widow's corn : “Oh, the poor, blind old widow
Though she has been blind so long, She'll be merry enough when the mildew's gone,
And the corn stands stiff and strong!! “ And some they brought the brown lintseed,
And flung it down from the Low"And this,' said they, by the sunrise,
In the weaver's croft shall grow! «« Oh, the poor, lame weaver,
How he will laugh outright,
All full of flowers by night !'
“And then upspoke a brownie,
With a long beard on his chin'I have spun up all the tow,' said he,
* And I want some more to spin. “I've spun a piece of hempen cloth,
And I want to spin anotherA little sheet for Mary's bed,
And an apron for her mother! “And with that I could not help but laugh,
And I laughed out loud and free ; And then on the top of the Caldon-Low
There was no one left but me.
The mists were cold and grey,
That round about me lay.
I heard, afar below,
And how merry the wheel did go !
And, sure enough, was seen
All standing stiff and green.
To see if the flax were high ; But I saw the weaver at his gate
With the good news in his eye ! “Now, this is all I heard, mother,
And all that I did see;
For I'm tired as I can be !”
ODE TO THE CUCKOO.-(Logan).
Thou messenger of Spring!
And woods thy welcome sing.
Thy certain voice we hear;
Or mark the rolling year?
I hail the time of flowers,
From birds among the bowers.
To pull the primrose gay,
And imitates thy lay.
Thou fliest thy vocal vale,
Another spring to hail.
Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear ;
No Winter in thy year.
O could I fly, I'd fly with thee!
We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe,
Companions of the Spring.