Excerpt: ...the trusty briar's aglow: Alas! in smoking, drinking, dreaming, How sadly swift the moments go! Oh, golden hour! 'twixt love and duty, All others I to others give; But you are mine to yield to Beauty, To glean Romance, to greatly live. For in my easy-chair reclining . . . I feel the sting of ocean spray; And yonder wondrously are shining The Magic Isles of Far Away. Beyond the comber's crashing thunder Strange beaches flash into my ken; On jetties heaped head-high with plunder I dance and dice with sailor-men. ...
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Excerpt: ...the trusty briar's aglow: Alas! in smoking, drinking, dreaming, How sadly swift the moments go! Oh, golden hour! 'twixt love and duty, All others I to others give; But you are mine to yield to Beauty, To glean Romance, to greatly live. For in my easy-chair reclining . . . I feel the sting of ocean spray; And yonder wondrously are shining The Magic Isles of Far Away. Beyond the comber's crashing thunder Strange beaches flash into my ken; On jetties heaped head-high with plunder I dance and dice with sailor-men. Strange stars swarm down to burn above me, Strange shadows haunt, strange voices greet; Strange women lure and laugh and love me, And fling their bastards at my feet. Oh, I would wish the wide world over, In ports of passion and unrest, To drink and drain, a tarry rover With dragons tattooed on my chest, With haunted eyes that hold red glories Of foaming seas and crashing shores, With lips that tell the strangest stories Of sunken ships and gold moidores; Till sick of storm and strife and slaughter, Some ghostly night when hides the moon, I slip into the milk-warm water And softly swim the stale lagoon. Then through some jungle python-haunted, Or plumed morass, or woodland wild, I win my way with heart undaunted, And all the wonder of a child. The pathless plains shall swoon around me, The forests frown, the floods appall; The mountains tiptoe to confound me, The rivers roar to speed my fall. Wild dooms shall daunt, and dawns be gory, And Death shall sit beside my knee; Till after terror, torment, glory, I win again the sea, the sea. . . . Oh, anguish sweet! Oh, triumph splendid! Oh, dreams adieu! my pipe is dead. My glass is dry, my Hour is ended, It's time indeed I stole to bed. How peacefully the house is sleeping! Ah! why should I strange fortunes plan? To guard the dear ones in my keeping
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Add this copy of Ballads of a Bohemian to cart. $40.34, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Newport Coast, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2002 by IndyPublish.
