Upon The Angry Cove

                           {composed during a terrific thunderstorm on Salmon River, Sept. 16,1890}

The heavens above are black as night,

     And I, with bending oar,

Do strive with all my fragile might,

     To reach the leeward shore.

Lo! a blinding flash! and then

     Loud thunder rolls o’erhead;

While blackening flaws which sheer my boat,

     Upon the river spread.

The startled birds wheel round and round,

     And beat the waves in vain;

While far above, o’er Mt. Tom’s crest

     I hear the roaring rain.

It comes! It comes! A sheet of gray

     Obscures both bay and shore;

While I, as wet as fish beneath,

     Pull home with slackened oar.

(note that this was written one week after 'Starting For My Vacation')