First Lines of Celia Thaxter
A child looked up in the summer skyAcross the narrow beach we flit,Amid bayberry, fern, sweet brier,Bobolink shall play the violin,By yonder sandy cove where, every day,Climbing the Pincian Hill's long slope,Coo, coo, my pretty doves, fly lightly here!Heard you, O little children,Heroes on History's height!How cold and still! The keen, clear airI lift my voice to the breeze,I wake! I feel the day is near;In the far-off land of Norway,Little Gustava sits in the sun,Lo, I come from dreamland dim,Low burns the sunset and the dark is near:O lightly moored the lilies lie,O strong young son of a king!O the warm, sweet, mellow summer noon,Oh tell me, little children, have you seen herOh the dear, delightful soundPoor, sweet Piccola! Did you hearPupil and master together,The alder by the riverThe moon is tired and old;The old-wives sit on the heaving brine,The slow, cool, emerald breaker curving clearThe white dove sat on the sunny eaves,The wind blows, the sun shines, the birds sing loud,Thou little child, with tender, clinging arms,Who that is merciful and wiseYellow-bird, where did you learn that song,