But the Gods of Greece had been before And walked our meads along, The great authentic Gods of yore That haunt the earth from shore to shore Trailing their robes of song.
Odin is also the god of wisdom and poesy; in the morning of time he deposited one of his eyes in pledge for a drink of Mimer's fountain of wisdom, and he drank Suttung's mead in order to gain the gift of poesy.
He also poured out half a cup more mead from the quantity that remained, ravenously eating and drinking these as he stood.
Ev'ning now from purple wings Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, Cooling breezes shake the reed; Shake the reed, and curl the stream, Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam; Near the checquer'd, lonely grove, Hears, and keeps thy secrets, love.
Winding its dark-green wood and emerald glade, The still vale lengthens underneath the shade; While in soft gloom the scattering bowers recede, Green dewy lights adorn the freshened mead, 1815.
Round the vex'd isles where fierce tornados roar, 180 Or tropic breezes sooth the sultry shore; What time the eve her gauze pellucid spreads O'er the dim flowers, and veils the misty meads; Slow, o'er the twilight sands or leafy walks, With gloomy dignity DICTAMNA stalks; Dictamnus.
The kings, and other rich men, drink mares milk, while the poor people and slaves use only mead.
You must try your mead two or three times in the above time, and if you find the sweetness going off, you must take it sooner.
In the depths Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed The pebbles: high above it pine and plane And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green; With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee.
"The Indian, How Landor," suggested Mead adequately.
"Just like daisies all spread O'er a broad sunny mead In the sun-beams so beauteously shining, Are fried eggs, well displayed On a dish, when we've laid The cloth, and are thinking of dining."
175 So WRIGHT's bold pencil from Vesuvio's hight Hurls his red lavas to the troubled night; From Calpe starts the intolerable flash, Skies burst in flames, and blazing oceans dash;-- Or bids in sweet repose his shades recede, 180 Winds the still vale, and slopes the velvet mead; On the pale stream expiring Zephyrs sink, And Moonlight sleeps upon its hoary brink.
There is indeed no alternative for us but to admit that these fireside tales have been handed down from parent to child for more than a hundred generations; that the primitive Aryan cottager, as he took his evening meal of yava and sipped his fermented mead, listened with his children to the stories of Boots and Cinderella and the Master Thief, in the days when the squat Laplander was master of Europe and the dark-skinned Sudra was as yet unmolested in the Punjab.
325 O'er the green brinks of Severn's oozy bed, In changeful rings, her sprightly troop She led; PAN tripp'd before, where Eudness shades the mead, And blew with glowing lip his sevenfold reed; Emerging Naiads swell'd the jocund strain, 330 And aped with mimic step the dancing train.-- Sevenfold reed.
But let me never fail in cloudless nights, When silent Cynthia in her silver car Through the blue concave slides, when shine the hills, Twinkle the streams, and woods look tipped with gold, To seek some level mead, and there invoke Old Midnight's sister, Contemplation sage, (Queen of the rugged brow and stern-fixt eye,) To lift my soul above this little earth, This folly-fettered world: to purge my ears, That I may hear the rolling planets' song, And tuneful turning spheres: if this be barred The little fays, that dance in neighbouring dales, Sipping the night-dew, while they laugh and love, Shall charm me with aerial notes.--As thus I wander musing, lo, what awful forms Yonder appear!
SIR REGINALD TALBOT, K.C.B. I tell of old Virginian ways; And who more fit my tale to scan Than you, who knew in far-off days The eager horse of Sheridan; Who saw the sullen meads of fate, The tattered scrub, the blood-drenched sod, Where Lee, the greatest of the great, Bent to the storm of God?
When first the peasant, long inclined to roam, Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home, Pleased with the scene the smiling ocean yields, He scorns the verdant meads and flowery fields: Then dances jocund o'er the watery way, While the breeze whispers, and the streamers play: Unbounded prospects in his bosom roll, And future millions lift his rising soul; In blissful dreams he digs the golden mine, And raptured sees the new-found ruby shine.
Would root these beauties as he roots the mead.
All this cannot receive too high a mead of praise.
3 For me, no more I'll range the empurpled mead, Where shepherds pipe, and virgins dance around, Nor wander through the woodbine's fragrant shade, To hear the music of the grove resound.
So when past Pangbourne's verdant meads, by Clieveden's mossy stems, You see a barge all white-and-gold come gliding down the Thames, With tow-rope spun from coloured silks and snow-white horses three, Which stop beside your river house--you'll know the bargee's me.
Men bade pour out for the guests (full gladly this was done) passing good mead and the best of wine that one might find in the land along the Rhine.
Our tablets tell us how dread sorrow spreads Upon that world and mars its glowing meads.
And let them make great store of bridale poses, 45 And let them eke bring store of other flowers, To deck the bridale bowers: And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread, For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong, Be strewd with fragrant flowers all along, 50 And diapred** lyke the discolored mead.
I love mead, when 'tis old like this, as I love to go to church o' Sundays, or to relieve the needy any day of the week."
Not roses redly blown, Nor golden lilies, lighting the dusky meads, Nor proud imperial pansies, nor queen-cups quaint and rare-- Not these alone Make the sweet sights of summer But the countless forest leaves, the myriad wayside weeds And slender grasses, springing up everywhere-- These help to make the summer.
I tell you what;--your speculative churl Is like a beast which some ill spirit leads, On barren wilderness, in ceaseless whirl, While all around lie fair and verdant meads.
But now, when to Eurotas' deeply curving shores Steering our course, scarce had our foremost vessel's beak The land saluted, spake he, as by God inspired: "Here let my men of war, in ordered ranks, disbark; I marshal them, drawn up upon the ocean strand; But thou, pursue thy way, not swerving from the banks, Laden with fruit, that bound Eurotas' sacred stream, Thy coursers guiding o'er the moist enamelled meads, Until thou may'st arrive at that delightful plain, Where Lacedaemon, once a broad fruit-bearing field, By mountains stern surrounded lifteth now its walls.
Those blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd, For I shall never think him less than god; Oft on his altars shall my firstlings lie, Their blood the consecrated stones shall dye: 10 He gave my flocks to graze the flowery meads, And me to tune at ease the unequal reeds.
2 No more shall flowers the meads adorn, Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn, Nor swelling buds proclaim the spring, Nor parching heats the dog-star bring, Nor laughing lilies paint the grove, When blue-eyed Ann I cease to love.
The other had by this time finished the mead in the mug, after which, shaking hands heartily at the door, and wishing each other well, they went their several ways.
And ever as he went he swept a lyre Of unaccustomed shape, and ... strings Now like the ... of impetuous fire Which shakes the forest with its murmurings, Now like the rush of the aerial wings 5 Of the enamoured wind among the treen, Whispering unimaginable things, And dying on the streams of dew serene Which feed the unmown meads with ever-during green.
"Nay, nay," she says, "nowise may I wake her, or talk with her; for many days has she drunk neither mead nor wine; surely the wrath of the Gods has fallen upon her."
Come, let us go, and make thy father blind, For such a sight will blind a father's eye; One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads, What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes?
"Ye springs and founts that sparkling well from yonder mountain-side, And flow with dimpling torrent o'er mead and garden wide, If e'er the tears that from my breast to these sad eyes ascend Should with your happy waters their floods of sadness blend, Oh, take them to your bosom with love, for love has bidden These drops to tell the wasting woe that in my heart is hidden.
The various swarms which boundless ocean breeds, The countless tribes which crop the flowery meads, All know their kind, but hapless man alone Has no instinctive feeling for his own!
We to green paths and blossomed meads With dawn of morn must run, And cull a breathing chaplet; And still our dream shall be, Helen, of thee, as weanling lambs Yearn in the pasture for the dams That nursed their infancy.
It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable.
she cries, Her stiffening tongue the unfinish'd sound denies; Tear after tear adown her cheek succeeds, And pearls of ice bestrew the glittering meads; 455 Congealing snows her lingering feet surround, Arrest her flight, and root her to the ground; With suppliant arms she pours the silent prayer; Her suppliant arms hang crystal in the air; Pellucid films her shivering neck o'erspread, 460 Seal her mute lips, and silver o'er her head, Veil her pale bosom, glaze her lifted hands, And shrined in ice the beauteous statue stands.
Come, Gabriella, let us sett her downe; And seate her easylie, doe not hurt my queene; The downie breathe that sweepes alongst the meads, Kissinge the gentyll flowers that sweeten hym, Are stormes and tempests to her tenderness: They place the dead bodye in a chayre.
There were a right o' way, zur, acrust the mead thereby, as the volk did claim.