 | The candle in the cabin |  |
67
THE HOUR OF FATE
The First Song of the Forest-Ranger's Honeymoon
The log cabin hearth fire dies away;
The embers turn to ashes, and we wait;
It is the hour of fate.
The embers turn to ashes, and we wait;
It is the hour of fate.
Here, by these two dim candles, we bend,
Each to each, at the riotous day's end.
Each to each, at the riotous day's end.
Oh, the tremendous leaping of our souls
At dawn this morning because of the mountains' gold!
Till we improvised in song: meter and rhyme.
Oh, the tremendous leaping of ambition
When new strength came with the wind, and the high climb.
How we planned and plotted against gloom,
Against the sorrows of the world and time,
The gray hairs of the years,
The sod of the grave.
How we planned and plotted against tears.
At dawn this morning because of the mountains' gold!
Till we improvised in song: meter and rhyme.
Oh, the tremendous leaping of ambition
When new strength came with the wind, and the high climb.
How we planned and plotted against gloom,
Against the sorrows of the world and time,
The gray hairs of the years,
The sod of the grave.
How we planned and plotted against tears.
Now we remember the red rocks at noon,
The great blue rivers and the yellow moss;
Now we remember the white aspen bowers;
Now we remember the purple lake, and how we swam across;
Now we remember the crimson Indian paint;
Now we remember the orange autumn leaves.
The embers turn to ashes and we wait.
It is the hour of fate.
Either the mighty bridal hour or the closing of love's gate.
The great blue rivers and the yellow moss;
Now we remember the white aspen bowers;
Now we remember the purple lake, and how we swam across;
68
Now we remember the orange autumn leaves.
The embers turn to ashes and we wait.
It is the hour of fate.
Either the mighty bridal hour or the closing of love's gate.
| The candle in the cabin | |