Erlinthule King Ithol And The Lyrics Of The Greenwood Tree

Author : John Baldwin Fosbroke
Publisher : Rarebooksclub.com
ISBN 13 : 9781230167657
Total Pages : 30 pages
Book Rating : 4.1/5 (676 download)

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Download or read book Erlinthule, King Ithol and the Lyrics of the Greenwood Tree written by John Baldwin Fosbroke and published by Rarebooksclub.com. This book was released on 2013-09 with total page 30 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1873 edition. Excerpt: ...an evil miller be. The Wandering! the Wandering! the Wandering! From the water have we learnt it, from The Water! From the water have we learnt it, from The Water! Which ever wanders night and day Upon its wild and distant way; The Water! the Water! the Water! The Wandering also have we seen In the Mill-wheels! The Wandering also have we seen In the Mill-wheels! They turn and hum and drone and sing, And evermore are wandering; The Mill-wheels! the Mill-wheels! the Mill-wheels! The mill-stones too, though heavy they be, The Mill-stones! The mill-stones too, though heavy they be, The Mill-stones! They laugh and jostle, troll and reel, And wander on with brook and wheel; The Mill-stones! the Mill-stones! the Mill-stones! Oh Wandering! Wandering, passion mine! Oh Wandering! Oh ye who rest, leave me forever Wandering! To wander with the water's drone, With trolling wheel and humming stone, To Wander! to Wander! to Wander! II.--Whither? I heard a brooklet rushing From out the rock-well near; Into the valley rushing, So fresh and wondrous clear! I knew not what the brook meant, But thought came to me so, That I must with my wanderer's staff Follow the brook below. So downward and ever onward, And ever the brooklet near, And ever fresher rushing, And yet more wondrous clear. But lies my pathway thither? Oh Brooklet speak! whither?--whither? speak, whither? My thoughts within thy rushing, Have rushed I know not whither! What know I of this rushing? What rushing this may be? Perchance the Nixies singing Beneath the waves to me! Sing on and hum, sweet comrades, Through moss and lichen-nook, And through the mill-wheels turning In every rushing brook. III.--Halt. Now a Mill see I glancing The elm-shade reveals, Through rushing and singing Breaks...