But, even in his dying fear,
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,--
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell
The Devil below was ringing his knell.
ROBERT SOUTHEY.
THE FINDING OF THE LYRE.
Once a year my pupils teach me "The Finding of the Lyre." By the time I
have learned it they know the meaning of every line and have caught the
spirit of the verse. There is an ancient "lyre," or violin, made in
northern Africa, in the possession of a Boston lady, and I have found
the mud-turtle rattle among the Indians on the Indian reservation at
Syracuse, New York. They use it as a musical instrument in their
Thanksgiving dances. The poem helps to build an interest in history and
mythology while it develops a child's reverence and insight. (1819-91.)
There lay upon the ocean's shore
What once a tortoise served to cover;
A year and more, with rush and roar,
The surf had rolled it over,
Had played with it, and flung it by,
As wind and weather might decide it,
Then tossed it high where sand-drifts dry
Cheap burial might provide it.
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