FROM NADSON.

FROM NADSON.

Pity the stately cypress trees;How freshly green they spring!Ah! why amidst their branches, child,Have you put up your swing?Break not a single fragrant bough.Oh, take thy swing awayTo heights where thick acacias bloom;Mid dusty olives play!Thence you can see the Ocean,And, as your swing ascends,Through greening boughs a sunny glimpseThe sea in laughter sendsOf white sails in the distance dim,Of white gulls far away,Of white flakes foaming on the sands,A fringe of snowy spray.

Pity the stately cypress trees;How freshly green they spring!Ah! why amidst their branches, child,Have you put up your swing?Break not a single fragrant bough.Oh, take thy swing awayTo heights where thick acacias bloom;Mid dusty olives play!Thence you can see the Ocean,And, as your swing ascends,Through greening boughs a sunny glimpseThe sea in laughter sendsOf white sails in the distance dim,Of white gulls far away,Of white flakes foaming on the sands,A fringe of snowy spray.

Pity the stately cypress trees;How freshly green they spring!Ah! why amidst their branches, child,Have you put up your swing?Break not a single fragrant bough.Oh, take thy swing awayTo heights where thick acacias bloom;Mid dusty olives play!Thence you can see the Ocean,And, as your swing ascends,Through greening boughs a sunny glimpseThe sea in laughter sendsOf white sails in the distance dim,Of white gulls far away,Of white flakes foaming on the sands,A fringe of snowy spray.

Pity the stately cypress trees;

How freshly green they spring!

Ah! why amidst their branches, child,

Have you put up your swing?

Break not a single fragrant bough.

Oh, take thy swing away

To heights where thick acacias bloom;

Mid dusty olives play!

Thence you can see the Ocean,

And, as your swing ascends,

Through greening boughs a sunny glimpse

The sea in laughter sends

Of white sails in the distance dim,

Of white gulls far away,

Of white flakes foaming on the sands,

A fringe of snowy spray.


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