Poems of Charles Warren Stoddard . | ||
111
LAHAINA
Where the wave tumbles;
Where the reef rumbles;
Where the sea sweeps
Under bending palm-branches,
Sliding its snow-white
And swift avalanches:
Where the sails pass
O'er an ocean of glass.
Or trail their dull anchors
Down in the sea-grass.
Where the reef rumbles;
Where the sea sweeps
Under bending palm-branches,
Sliding its snow-white
And swift avalanches:
Where the sails pass
O'er an ocean of glass.
Or trail their dull anchors
Down in the sea-grass.
Where the hills smoulder;
Where the plains smoke;
Where the peaks shoulder
The clouds like a yoke;
Where the dear isle
Has a charm to beguile
As she lies in the lap
Of the seas that enfold her.
Where shadows falter;
Where the mist hovers
Like steam that covers
Some ancient altar.
Where the plains smoke;
Where the peaks shoulder
The clouds like a yoke;
Where the dear isle
Has a charm to beguile
As she lies in the lap
Of the seas that enfold her.
112
Where the mist hovers
Like steam that covers
Some ancient altar.
Where the sky rests
On deep wooded crests;
Where the clouds lag;
Where the sun floats
His glittering motes
Swimming the rainbows
That girdle the crag.
On deep wooded crests;
Where the clouds lag;
Where the sun floats
His glittering motes
Swimming the rainbows
That girdle the crag.
Where the newcomer
In deathless summer
Dreams away troubles;
Where the grape blossoms
And blows its sweet bubbles;
Where the goats cry
From the hillside corral;
Where the fish leap
In the weedy canal—
In the hollow lagoon
With its waters forsaken;
Where the dawn struggles
With night for an hour,
Then breaks like a tropical
Bird from its bower.
In deathless summer
Dreams away troubles;
Where the grape blossoms
And blows its sweet bubbles;
Where the goats cry
From the hillside corral;
Where the fish leap
In the weedy canal—
In the hollow lagoon
With its waters forsaken;
113
With night for an hour,
Then breaks like a tropical
Bird from its bower.
Where from the long leaves
The fresh dew is shaken;
Where the wind sleeps
And where the birds waken.
The fresh dew is shaken;
Where the wind sleeps
And where the birds waken.
Poems of Charles Warren Stoddard . | ||