harold, the wanderer.
49
In Rio's bright and lovely bay!
One evening as he strolled along the shore,
And wandered on for a mile or more,
He suddenly came to a lovely bay,
Where at anchor a stately frigate lay,—
In all her pride of conscious strength,
With the pennon fluttering at its length.
He saw a boat shoot round the rocky shore,
The white foam falling from their oars
In sheets of white and glittering sheen,
Bathed in the southern moon's pale beam,
Steadily watching them with great delight
Around the bay, until out of sight.
"'Tis now a year since I left my home,
O'er the wide world a wanderer to roam!
The frigate perchance may be homeward bound,
I long once more to tread on English ground,—
Rio is reached, and now once more I'm free
To leave or linger, where'er my choice may be.
There's no friend here to bid me stay
In this fair land and lovely bay;
And what care I where'er I roam,
As long as I can find a happy home!
Farewell! to Rio's lovely bay,—
Adieu, adieu!—for many a day!"
Each stout yard's securely braced,
One evening as he strolled along the shore,
And wandered on for a mile or more,
He suddenly came to a lovely bay,
Where at anchor a stately frigate lay,—
In all her pride of conscious strength,
With the pennon fluttering at its length.
He saw a boat shoot round the rocky shore,
The white foam falling from their oars
In sheets of white and glittering sheen,
Bathed in the southern moon's pale beam,
Steadily watching them with great delight
Around the bay, until out of sight.
"'Tis now a year since I left my home,
O'er the wide world a wanderer to roam!
The frigate perchance may be homeward bound,
I long once more to tread on English ground,—
Rio is reached, and now once more I'm free
To leave or linger, where'er my choice may be.
There's no friend here to bid me stay
In this fair land and lovely bay;
And what care I where'er I roam,
As long as I can find a happy home!
Farewell! to Rio's lovely bay,—
Adieu, adieu!—for many a day!"
Each stout yard's securely braced,
