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DRIFTING

By T. Buchanan Read.

Illustrated

From Designs By Miss L. B. Humphrey

Philadelphia:

J. B. Lippincott & Co.

1881.




DRIFTING.

[Illustration: 0019]

               |MY soul to-day

                    Is far away

               Sailing the Vesuvian Bay;

          My winged boat,

          A bird afloat,

     Swims round the purple peaks remote:--



|ROUND purple peaks

          It sails, and seeks

     Blue inlets and their crystal creeks,

               Where high rocks throw,

               Through deeps below,

     A duplicated golden glow.



[Illustration: 0023]

[Illustration: 0025]

|FAR, vague, and dim,

               The mountains swim;

          While on Vesuvius' misty brim,

               With outstretched hands,

               The gray smoke stands

          O'erlooking the volcanic lands.



|IN lofty lines,

          'Mid palms and pines,

     And olives, aloes, elms, and vines,

               Sorrento swings

               On sunset wings,

          Where Tasso's spirit soars and sings.



[Illustration: 0029]

[Illustration: 0031]

|I HEED not, if

          My rippling skiff

          Float swift or slow from cliff to

                    cliff;--

               With dreamful eyes

               My spirit lies

          Under the walls of Paradise.

               Under the walls

               Where swells and falls

          The Bay's deep breast at intervals.

[Illustration: 0033]

               At peace I lie,

               Blown softly by,

          A cloud upon this liquid sky.

          The day, so mild,

          Is Heaven's own child,

     With Earth and Ocean reconciled;--

               The airs I feel

               Around me steal

     Are murmuring to the murmuring keel.



|OVER the rail

          My hand I trail

          Within the shadow of the sail,

               A joy intense,

               The cooling sense

          Glides down my drowsy indolence.



[Illustration: 0037]

[Illustration: 0039]

[Illustration: 0041]

|THE fisher's child,

          With tresses wild,

          Unto the smooth, bright sand beguiled,

               With glowing lips

               Sings as she skips,

          Or gazes at the far-off ships.



[Illustration: 0045]

[Illustration: 0047]

[Illustration: 0049]

[Illustration: 0051]

|HAPPY ship,

          To rise and dip,

          With the blue crystal at your lip!

               O happy crew,

               My heart with you

                    anew!



|NO more, no more

          The worldly shore

          Upbraids me with its loud uproar

               With dreamful eyes

               My spirit lies

          Under the walls of Paradise!



[Illustration: 0055]






End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Drifting, by T. Buchanan Read

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