And far in the hazy distance Among the long, black rafters And the current that came from the ocean As, sweeping and eddying through them, Rose the belated tide, And, streaming into the moonlight, The seaweed floated wide. And like those waters rushing A flood of thoughts came o'er me 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? For my heart was hot and restless, 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 Each bearing his burden of sorrow, I see the long procession The young heart hot and restless, And forever and forever, As long as the river flows, As long as the heart has passions, The moon and its broken reflection TO THE DRIVING CLOUD. GLOOMY and dark art thou, O chicf of the mighty Omawhaws; 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? |