Charles Kingsley[1819-1875]Airly Beacon
¶AIRLY Beacon, Airly Beacon;O the pleasant sight to seeShires and towns from Airly Beacon,While my love climb'd up to me![1061]Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon;O the happy hours we layDeep in fern on Airly Beacon,Courting through the summer's dayl
¶Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon;O the weary haunt for me,All alone on Airly Beacon,With his baby on my knee!
The Sands of Dee
¶' O MARY , go and call the cattle home,And call the cattle home,And call the cattle homeAcross the sands of Dee ; 'The western wind was wild and dank with foam,And all alone went she.
¶The western tide crept up along the sand,And o'er and o'er the sand,And round and round the sand,As far as eye could see.The rolling mist came down and hid the land:And never home came she.
¶' O h ! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair,A tress of golden hair,A drowned maiden's hairAbove the nets at sea?Was never salmon yet that shone so fairAmong the stakes of Dee.'
¶They rowed her in across the rolling foam,The cruel crawling foam,The cruel hungry foam,To her grave beside the sea:But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle homeAcross the sands of Dee.
Young and Old
¶WHEN all the world is young, lad,And all the trees are green;And every goose a swan, lad,And every lass a queen;Then hey for boot and horse, lad,And round the world away;Young blood must have its course, lad,And every dog his day.
¶When all the world is old, lad,And all the trees are brown;And all the sport is stale, lad,And all the wheels run down :Creep home, and take your place there,The spent and maimed among:God grant you find one face thereYou loved when all was young.
Ode to the North - East Wind
¶WELCOME , wild North-easter!Shame it is to seeOdes to every zephyr;Ne'er a verse to thee.Welcome, black North-easter!O'er the German foam;O'er the Danish moorlands,From thy frozen home.Tired we are of summer,Tired of gaudy glare,Showers soft and steaming,Hot and breathless air.Tired of listless dreaming,Through the lazy day:Jovial wind of winterTurnus out to play!Sweep the golden reed-beds;Crisp the lazy dyke;[1063]Hunger into madnessEvery plunging pike.Fill the lake with wild-fowl;Fill the marsh with snipe;While on dreary moorlandsLonely curlew pipe.Through the black fir-forestThunder harsh and dry,Shattering down the snow-flakesOff the curdled sky.Hark! The brave North-easter!Breast-high lies the scent.On by holt and headland,Over heath and bent.Chime, ye dappled darlings,Through the sleet and snow.Who can over-ride you?Let the horses go!Chime, ye dappled darlings,Down the roaring blastYou shall see a fox dieEre an hour be past.Go! and rest to-morrow,Hunting in your dreams.While our skates are ringingO'er the frozen streams.Let the luscious South-windBreathe in lovers' sighs.While the lazy gallantsBask in ladies' eyes.What does he but softenHeart alike and pen?'Tis the hard grey weatherBreeds hard English men.What's the soft South-wester?'Tis the ladies' breeze.Bringing home their true-lovesOut of all the seas:But the black North-easter,Through the snowstorm hurled.[1064]Drives our English hearts of oakSeaward round the world.Come , as came our fathers,Heralded by thee,Conquering from the eastward,Lords by land and sea.Come ; and strong within usStir the Vikings' blood;Bracing brain and sinew;Blow, thou wind of God !