Amid lush herbage, under moss and loam,
Clear away life superfluous, and death.
Gorgeous fungi here and there reveal,
Where sun can pierce, traversing shadows thrown
Athwart them from some silken spider's line,
To and fro glancing when a zephyr breathes;
Bending long grasses wheresoe'er it hangs.
And hark! the honey-bird invites to steal
Delicious honey-combs from hollow boles.
Hearken again!
A sound, how plaintive and melodious,
Swells in the green gloom! it is like one note
From a sweet vibrant lyre—a hidden bird!
Women have gone, with infants slung behind them,
Toward a spring, light pitchers gracefully
Poised on their heads by steadying of dark arms
Curl'd over; or they bruise with iron hoes
The hopeful soil; plant yams and manioc;
Pound in wood mortars these, or maize and millet;
Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/93
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LIVINGSTONE IN AFRICA.
71
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