Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/101

Paddling or poling, in accordant time
Of oar and voice, chanting some ancient stave
Of river-song in tones Gregorian,
Solemn and strange, ancient as Pharaoh!

How wonderful it was to float along the river!
Dreamily hearing water plash and gurgle
From my canoe's advancing sides and oars,
Washing among green rushes of the shore!
Wherein wing'd warblers, plumed in spousal hues
Of green, gold, scarlet, sable, white and azure,
Flash'd, thrill'd, and warbled; here in the Summerland,
Now in the latest of two fairy summers,
When there is snow in England—ah! and bells;
With lovelier light and warmth of home and heart!
Hark! how they sing to soft mates in nests woven
Of green flags, nimble bills have sown with webs;
While, sunning them, they preen their little wings,
Showering drops that trickle down the stems!
Earlier rains have fallen; a fresh air