Refuge (a Pastoral)

     My thoughts today

          Have blown away

They drift o’er Salmon River bay.

          In my canoe

          So tried and true,

I glide along the waters blue.

          My snow white sail

          The breezes hail;

Behind me spreads a foamy trail.

          Thrice happy day

          Upon the bay!

All pain and care lies ‘neath the spray.

          Grave Mount Tom smiles,

          And views for miles

The straits where lie small dreamy isles.

          Under the shade

          By branches made,

Soft colored cattle drink and wade.

          ‘Twixt wave and sky,

          Bold fish-hawks fly,

And scan the bay with watchful eye.

          While from the hills

          The rhythmic rills

Enhance the tuneful song-bird trills.

          Along the shore,

          As ne’er before,

I drink sweet draughts from Nature’s store.

          Thus on I glide,

          As princes ride

To calm retreats the other side.

          With easel and

          Paint box in hand,

I step upon the mossy land;

          And paint a scene

          With sky serene,

Where tide reflects a softened green.

          Thank God for this

          One day of bliss

That lifts me from life’s dark abyss.

          O, happy dream!

          O, tranquil stream!

Some day again I’ll seek thy gleam.

Jan. 15, 1891

Pub. in Camb. Chronicle,

June 11, ‘98

Salmon River Cove by Joe Cone