Down The River

Far down the river I saw a light

     Glimmering faintly o’er the tide;

     But eyes, some eyes, see far and wide,

E’en through the veil of night.

Then throbbings of the troubled stream

     With reg’lar motion sank the spark,

     And left the surface broad and dark;

Methought I’d lost the gleam.

But no! again I saw it rise,

     And then implored the river’s flow

     To bear me onward, faster, so

I could reach the prize.

Then came to me a thought anew,

     So, from my oarless craft I peered

     And saw in truth that which I feared –

The light was moving too!

Thus hour by hour, ‘neath star-strewn sky,

     We drifted slowly, slowly down

     By silent hill and sleepy town,

And hoot-owls mocked my cry

That echoed from the lonely shore;

     While now and then a watch-dog’s wail

     Would reach me on my midnight sail.

Meanwhile the tide moved slower.

Just then the light more brightly gleamed,

     And hopes within began to blaze;

     Then, as the flame threw wide its rays

The river moveless seemed.

“Ah, wait!” I cried, “till turn of tide,

     And e’er the break of coming day

     Thy light shall guide me on my way.”

And thus I reached my bride.

Dec. 3, 1890

Pub. in Camb.

Press, Dec. 27, ‘90