Page:Summer on the lakes, in 1843.djvu/12



dried grass-tufts from the wide flowery plain, A muscle shell from the lone fairy shore, Some antlers from tall woods which never more To the wild deer a safe retreat can yield, An eagle's feather which adorned a Brave, Well-nigh the last of his despairing band, For such slight gifts wilt thou extend thy hand When weary hours a brief refreshment crave? I give you what I can, not what I would, If my small drinking-cup would hold a flood, As Scandinavia sung those must contain With which the giants gods may entertain; In our dwarf day we drain few drops, and soon must thirst again.