The Tables Turned "Nor less I dream that there are Powers That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness. "Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum Of things forever speaking, That nothing of itself will come, But we must still be seeking? "Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, I sit upon this old gray stone, And dream my time away." 1611 William Wordsworth [1770-1850] THE TABLES TURNED AN EVENING SCENE ON THE SAME SUBJECT UP! up! my friend, and quit your books; Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks; The sun, above the mountain's head, A freshening luster mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow. Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life There's more of wisdom in it. She has a world of ready wealth, One impulse from a vernal wood Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things: We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art; Close up those barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives. William Wordsworth [1770-1850] SIMPLE NATURE BE it not mine to steal the cultured flower "A-Hunting We Will Go" 1613 HUNTING-SONG From " King Arthur" Он, who would stay indoor, indoor, When the horn is on the hill? (Bugle: Tarantara! Before the sun goes down, goes down, We shall slay the buck of ten; (Bugle: Tarantara! Let him that loves his ease, his ease, Keep close and house him fair; (Bugle: Tarantara! But he that loves the hills, the hills, Let him come out to-day! (Bugle: Tarantara! For the horses are neighing, and the hounds are baying, Richard Hovey [1864-1900] "A-HUNTING WE WILL GO" From "Don Quixote in England " THE dusky night rides down the sky, The hounds all join in glorious cry, The huntsman winds his horn. And a-hunting we will go. The wife around her husband throws Her arms to make him stay; You cannot hunt to-day.” 79M Yet a-hunting we will go. Away they fly to 'scape the rout, Their steeds they soundly switch; Yet a-hunting we will go. Sly Reynard now like lightning flies, And when the hounds too near he spies, He drops his bushy tail. Then a-hunting we will go. Fond Echo seems to like the sport, And join the jovial cry; The woods, the hills, the sound retort, And music fills the sky, When a-hunting we do go. At last his strength to faintness worn, To feast away the night. And a-drinking we do go. Ye jovial hunters, in the morn When a-hunting we do go. HUNTING SONG WAKEN, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day; All the jolly chase is here, With hawk and horse and hunting-spear! Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily, merrily, mingle they, "Waken, lords and ladies gay." The Angler's Invitation. Waken, lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain gray, Waken, lords and ladies gay, We can show the marks he made Louder, louder chant the lay, Time, stern hunstman! who can balk, Think of this, and rise with day, Gentle lords and ladies gay! 1615 Walter Scott [1771-1832] THE ANGLER'S INVITATION COME when the leaf comes, angle with me, Come with the wild flowers Come with the wild showers Come when the singing bird calleth for thee! Then to the stream side, gladly we'll hie, Over the hill face Hurrying onward, drop the light fly. |