 | Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
LOCHMARLIE.
She stood, the hoping and fearing wrought
To one consummate and sovereign thought,
A dear little dimpled maiden.
But she did not watch for the boat on the tide,
With the black nets dragging over the side,
And the silver herrings laden.
To one consummate and sovereign thought,
A dear little dimpled maiden.
But she did not watch for the boat on the tide,
With the black nets dragging over the side,
And the silver herrings laden.
43
The waves lay quiet about her feet,
And she made the weed-strewn beach so sweet,
Both she and her song together;
The two little shoulders out of her gown
Peeping timid, and rosy-brown
As her Glenfern hills of heather.
And she made the weed-strewn beach so sweet,
Both she and her song together;
The two little shoulders out of her gown
Peeping timid, and rosy-brown
As her Glenfern hills of heather.
All out of the West the scarlet fell,
And the gold and the gray like a chasuble,
On the moaning and dark Lochmarlie,
And over the red and the gold and gray
The song from the young mouth rippled away,
And the glad refrain was Charley!
And the gold and the gray like a chasuble,
On the moaning and dark Lochmarlie,
And over the red and the gold and gray
The song from the young mouth rippled away,
And the glad refrain was Charley!
No sounds were heard but the fisher's oar,
As his boat came scudding in to the shore,
Her nets like a black veil wearing,
And his shout, as he lightly leaped to the land;
But what to the maiden there on the sand
Was the prize of silver herring!
As his boat came scudding in to the shore,
Her nets like a black veil wearing,
And his shout, as he lightly leaped to the land;
But what to the maiden there on the sand
Was the prize of silver herring!
She hid her shoulders deep in her gown,
And dropt her careless eyelids down
To the water of dark Lochmarlie;
And over the fisher and nets and all
Her song went on like the beach-bird's call,
And the wild refrain was Charley!
And dropt her careless eyelids down
To the water of dark Lochmarlie;
And over the fisher and nets and all
Her song went on like the beach-bird's call,
And the wild refrain was Charley!
Slow the night came over the dew,
But never a sail the mist breaks through—
“Sweetheart, can you thus dissemble?”
And fainter and fainter the love-song grows,
Till it breaks as the raindrops break in the rose
To a soft and soundless tremble.
But never a sail the mist breaks through—
“Sweetheart, can you thus dissemble?”
And fainter and fainter the love-song grows,
Till it breaks as the raindrops break in the rose
To a soft and soundless tremble.
44
Now all is still as still can be,
And the bell strikes one, and two, and three,
And the morning, whitening over,
Casts the moon in the sea like a ring,
Which a maid might out of her window fling
To her mad and moaning lover.
And the bell strikes one, and two, and three,
And the morning, whitening over,
Casts the moon in the sea like a ring,
Which a maid might out of her window fling
To her mad and moaning lover.
The strong-armed fisher comes to the shore,
And heads his slighted boat once more
Where the silver prize is lying;
But it seems to him that the wild green wave
Turns as the grass turns over a grave,
And his wrecked heart fills with sighing.
And heads his slighted boat once more
Where the silver prize is lying;
But it seems to him that the wild green wave
Turns as the grass turns over a grave,
And his wrecked heart fills with sighing.
'Tis many a year since the maiden's lay,
With the gold and the scarlet, died away
From the water of dark Lochmarlie;
But still with the night do the tides return
To the heathery hills of wild Glenfern
With the wail of Charley! Charley!
With the gold and the scarlet, died away
From the water of dark Lochmarlie;
But still with the night do the tides return
To the heathery hills of wild Glenfern
With the wail of Charley! Charley!
| Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |