IN
THE SHADOWS
|
|
I AM
sailing to the leeward,
Where the current runs to seaward
Soft
and slow.
Where the sleeping river grasses
Brush my paddle as it passes
|
5 |
To
and fro.
On the shore the heat is shaking
All the golden sands awaking
In
the cove;
And the quaint sand-piper, winging
|
10 |
O’er
the shallows, ceases singing
When
I move.
On the water’s idle pillow
Sleeps the overhanging willow,
Green
and cool;
|
15 |
Where
the rushes lift their burnished
Oval heads from out the tarnished
Emerald
pool. [Page 82]
Where the very silence slumbers,
Water lilies grow in numbers,
|
20 |
Pure
and pale;
All the morning they have rested,
Amber crowned, and pearly crested,
Fair
and frail.
Here, impossible romances,
|
25 |
Indefinable
sweet fancies,
Cluster
round;
But they do not mar the sweetness
Of this still September fleetness
With
a sound.
|
30 |
I can scarce discern the meeting
Of the shore an stream retreating,
So
remote;
For the laggard river, dozing,
Only wakes from its reposing
|
35 |
Where
I float.
Where the river mists are rising,
All the foliage baptizing
With
their spray;
There the sun gleams far and faintly,
|
40 |
With
a shadow soft and saintly,
In
its ray.
And the perfume of some burning
Far-off brushwood, ever-turning
To
exhale [Page 83]
|
45 |
All
its smoky fragrance dying,
In the arms of evening lying,
Where
I sail.
My canoe is growing lazy,
In the atmosphere so hazy,
|
50 |
While
I dream;
Half in slumber I am guiding,
Eastward indistinctly gliding
Down
the stream. [Page 84]
|
|
|
