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And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon
Among the long, black rafters
The wavering shadows lay, And the current that came from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away;
As, sweeping and eddying through them,
Rose the belated tide,
The seaweed floated wide.
And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
That filled my eyes with tears
How often, O, how often,
In the days that had gone by, I had stood on that bridge at midnight
And gazed on that wave and sky!
How often, o, how often,
I had wished that the ebbing tide Would bear me away on its bosom
O'er the ocean wild and wide ?
my heart was hot and restless,
life was full of care, And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater than I could bear.
But now it has fallen from me,
It is buried in the sea ;
Throws its shadow over me.
Yet whenever I cross the river
On its bridge with wooden piers, Like the odour of brine from the ocean
Comes the thought of other years.
And I think how many thousands
Of care-encumbered men,
Have crossed the bridge since then.
I see the long procession
Still passing to and fro,
And the old subdued and slow!
And forever and forever,
As long as the river flows,
As long as life has woes ;
The moon and its broken reflection And its shadows shall
appear, As the symbol of love in heaven,
And its wavering image here.
TO THE DRIVING CLOUD.
GLOOMY and dark art thou, O chicf of the
mighty Omawlaws; Gloomy and dark, as the driving cloud, whose
name thou hast taken! Wrapt in thy scarlet blanket, I see thee stalk
through the city's Narrow and populous streets, as once by the
margin of rivers Stalked those birds unknown, that have left
us only their footprints What, in a few short years, will remain of thy
race but the footprints :