Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/72

Dazed with the wassail-bowl, and fumes that rise
From gurgling gourds, to steal bewilder'd sense,
Sense light as thistle-down; gay young buffoons,
And elder fools allowing allusions free,
With frantic, half-lewd gestures, bounden only
By salutary fear of me, the Master . . . .

One tells a tale of perilous hunts with spear,
Envenom'd arrows, shields of rugged hide;
Relates the infuriate, unwieldy charge
Of rough, one-horn'd, uncouth rhinoceros;
Or elephant snapping crush'd dishevell'd trees,
With horrible, ear-bursting trumpet-bray.
They tell of graceful, lithe, long-neck'd giraffes,
Beating the plain with undulating flight;
Strong striding ostrich, spuming the burnt sand;
Of crawling dumb to leeward of a herd—
Kudu, or eland wearing wreathen horns.

Or they relate some wonderful weird tale
Of sorcery and superstition strange;
For one affirms he knew in such a village