THE COTTAGE BY THE RIVER
57
Must have been some ship-wreck'd sailor
By the angry tempest tossed—
Or an aeronaut that landed
Who with his balloon was lost.
By the angry tempest tossed—
Or an aeronaut that landed
Who with his balloon was lost.
Doubtless, then, this lonely exile
Fought the wild-cat and the bear—
Else he'd not have pitched his cabin
Forty miles from any where—
Far away from habitation—
Neither do we often find
Houses that are built like this one
With the front door on behind!)
Fought the wild-cat and the bear—
Else he'd not have pitched his cabin
Forty miles from any where—
Far away from habitation—
Neither do we often find
Houses that are built like this one
With the front door on behind!)
Though in this salubrious climate
Often lurks the river fogs;—
Yet the sweet, halcyon chorus
Of the whip-poor-wills and frogs
When the twilight shadows gather
And the sun sinks in the west—
Calms and sooths the fever'd pillow,
Lulls the weary into rest.
Often lurks the river fogs;—
Yet the sweet, halcyon chorus
Of the whip-poor-wills and frogs
When the twilight shadows gather
And the sun sinks in the west—
Calms and sooths the fever'd pillow,
Lulls the weary into rest.
Then all hail—all hail to Crusoe
(Or what ever was his name)
Who discovered this fair haven,
And in reverence well proclaim
(Or what ever was his name)
Who discovered this fair haven,
And in reverence well proclaim
