C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
A Myth
By Charles Kingsley (18191875)
A
Across the sleeping sea,
All night I heard a singing bird
Upon the topmost tree.
Or from the banks of Seine;
Or off some tree in forests free,
Which fringe the western main?”
Nor yet from off the New;
But I am one of the birds of God
Which sing the whole night through.”
Oh, whistle for the wind:
The night is long, the current strong,
My boat it lags behind.”
The current sweeps the New:
The wind will blow, the dawn will glow,
Ere thou hast sailed them through.”