Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/97

Rh Here in a fairy glade: Ebb and flow To a music low, Viol, and flute and lyre, As melody mounts higher: With a merry will, They touch and thrill. Beautiful limbs of fire!

Red berries, shells, Over bosom-dells. And girdles of light grass, May never hide The youthful pride Of beauty, ere it pass: Yet, ah! sweet boy and lass, Refrain, retire! Love is a fire! Night will pass!

I came to pleasant places on my way! Lawns of deep verdure by a silvern water; Wind-waved savannahs flush'd with floral bloom,