SPRING
ON THE RIVER
O sun, shine
hot on the river;
For the ice is turning an ashen
hue,
And the still bright water is
looking through,
And the myriad streams are greeting
you
With a ballad of life to the giver,
5
From forest and field and sunny
town,
Meeting and running and tripping
down,
With laughter and song to the river.
Oh! the din
on the boats by the river;
The barges are ringing while
day avails,
10
With sound of hewing and hammering
nails,
Planing and painting and swinging
pails,
All day in their shrill endeavor;
For the waters brim over their
wintry cup,
And the grinding ice is breaking
up,
15
And we must away down the river.
Oh! the hum
and the toil of the river;
The ridge of the rapid sprays
and skips:
Loud and low by the water’s
lips,
Tearing the wet pines into strips,
20
The saw mill is moaning ever.
The little grey sparrow skips
and calls
On the rocks in the rain of
the water falls,
And the logs are adrift in the river.
Oh! restlessly
whirls the river;
25
The rivulets run and the cataract
drones:
The spiders are flitting over
the stones:
Summer winds float and the cedar
moans;
And the eddies gleam and quiver.
O sun; shine hot, shine long
and abide
30
In the glory and power of the
summer tide
On the swift longing face of the river.
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