Capitolo 1
AN OLD CITY OF THE SEA
of Thomas Bailey Aldrich
RIVER OF PISCATAQUA
You singest from the islands that they sparkle,
From woods and fields of corn,
You the singest and the smiles of light of the sun
On my morning of birthday.
But me inside a city, me,
So full of vague nervousness,
It would almost give my life to lie
A hour on on breast of thy.
To make the careless wherry goes,
And, wrapt in dreamy joy,
Baths, and you inactively get excited before and back,
As the red harbor-boa;
Bottom in happy indolence,
To remain on the oars,
And he/she takes the earthy and heavy perfumes
That hit from beaches in summer;
To see the round sun go down,
And with his/her fires of division
Turns on the windows of the city
And it burns tapers him it buds;
And then to feel the enveloped tolls
From bell tower thin and white,
And it looks, among the Islands of Benches,
The light of orange of the Light of signaling.
River of Or! flowing to the principal
Through woods and fields of corn,
Feels you my greed and my pain
This morning of birthday exposed to the sun;
And he/she takes this song that elaborate forms
To music as thine possesses,
And it sings him/it to the cliffs and heads
Be steeples where I am known!
CONTAINED
ME. CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH
II. LONG THE SIDE OF WATER
III. A TURN ON CITY
IV. A Turn On City (it continued)
V. OLD STRAWBERRY BANK
YOU. OF THE OLD PROFILES OF PORTSMOUTH
VII. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES
INDEX OF NAMES
AN OLD CITY OF THE SEA
ME. CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH
I Call him/it an old city, but it am only relatively old. When one reflects
in the innumerable centuries that you/he/she has gone to the for-mation of this
crust of earth on which we temporarily move there, the most ancient cities on
its surface seems only things of the week of forehead to last. It was only the
other day, then--that is to say, in the month of June, 1603--that one
Martin Pring, in the ship Speedwell, an enormous ship of almost fifty