Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/110

Rh

Such britttle bonds, flew up the chimney swift And gained high Melibœcus. See how sound The village rustics sleep;—the hamlet lies In that small dell. How silent its repose! The birds are mute, not even the watch-dog's bark Breaks the deep silence; and the evening breeze Is hushed; there's not a leaf stirs. Haste away To the deep forests and the boundless plains, And chase a herd of buffaloes who spurn The earth beneath them, as they course along The wide savannahs and the prairies, where The boldest hunter never yet hath dared To track their footsteps. On swart Afric's coast, Swept by a keen east wind, a locust cloud Were drowned in ocean; the returning tide Hath cast their loathsome bodies on the shore To swell and putrify; that tainted air I may breathe harmlessly. I'll drink my fill