Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume V. Nature. 1904. | | | | III. The Seasons | | Swimming | | Lord Byron (1788–1824) |
| | From “The Two Foscari”
HOW many a time have I | |
| Cloven, with arm still lustier, breast more daring, | |
| The wave all roughened; with a swimmer’s stroke | |
| Flinging the billows back from my drenched hair, | |
| And laughing from my lips the audacious brine, | 5 |
| Which kissed it like a wine-cup, rising o’er | |
| The waves as they arose, and prouder still | |
| The loftier they uplifted me; and oft, | |
| In wantonness of spirit, plunging down | |
| Into their green and glassy gulfs, and making | 10 |
| My way to shells and sea-weed, all unseen | |
| By those above, till they waxed fearful; then | |
| Returning with my grasp full of such tokens | |
| As showed that I had searched the deep; exulting, | |
| With a far-dashing stroke, and drawing deep | 15 |
| The long-suspended breath, again I spurned | |
| The foam which broke around me, and pursued | |
| My track like a sea-bird.—I was a boy then. | | | | |
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