Читать книгу The Poetry of South Africa - Various - Страница 16

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Under the Didima[10] lies a green dell, Where fresh from the forest the blue waters swell; And fast by that brook stands a yellow-wood tree Which shelters the spot which is dearest to me.

Down by the streamlet my heifers are grazing;

In the pool of the guanas the herd-boy is gazing;

Under the shade my amana is singing—

The shade of the tree where her cradle is swinging.

When I come from the upland as daylight is fading,

Though spent with the chase, and the game for my lading,

My nerves are new-strung and my fond heart is swelling

As I gaze from the cliff on our wood-circled dwelling.

Down the steep mountain and through the brown forest,

I haste like a hart when his thirst is the sorest;

I bound o’er the swift brook that skirts the savannah,

And clasp my first-born in the arms of Amana.

Thomas Pringle.