 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
GAULEY RIVER.
The waters of Gauley,
Wild waters and brown,
Through the hill-bounded valley,
Sweep onward and down;
Over rocks, over shallows,
Through shaded ravines,
Where the beautiful hallows
Wild, varying scenes;
Where the tulip tree scatters
Its blossoms in Spring,
And the bank-swallow spatters
With foam its sweet wing;
Where the dun deer is stooping
To drink from the spray,
And the fish-eagle swooping
Bears down on his prey—
Brown waters of Gauley,
That sweep past the shore—
Dark waters of Gauley
That move evermore.
Wild waters and brown,
Through the hill-bounded valley,
Sweep onward and down;
Over rocks, over shallows,
Through shaded ravines,
Where the beautiful hallows
Wild, varying scenes;
Where the tulip tree scatters
Its blossoms in Spring,
And the bank-swallow spatters
With foam its sweet wing;
Where the dun deer is stooping
To drink from the spray,
And the fish-eagle swooping
Bears down on his prey—
Brown waters of Gauley,
That sweep past the shore—
Dark waters of Gauley
That move evermore.
Brown waters of Gauley,
At eve on your tide,
My log canoe slowly
And careless I guide.
The world and its troubles
I leave on the shore,
I seek the wild torrent
And shout to its roar.
The pike glides before me
In impulse of fear,
In dread of the motion
That speaks of the spear—
Proud lord of these waters,
He fears lest I be
A robber rapacious
And cruel as he.
He is off to his eddy,
In wait for his prey;
He is off to his ambush,
And there let him stay.
At eve on your tide,
My log canoe slowly
And careless I guide.
226
I leave on the shore,
I seek the wild torrent
And shout to its roar.
The pike glides before me
In impulse of fear,
In dread of the motion
That speaks of the spear—
Proud lord of these waters,
He fears lest I be
A robber rapacious
And cruel as he.
He is off to his eddy,
In wait for his prey;
He is off to his ambush,
And there let him stay.
Brown waters of Gauley,
Impatient ye glide,
To seek the Kanawha,
And mix with its tide—
Past hillside and meadow,
Past cliff and morass,
Receiving the tribute
Of streams as ye pass,
Ye heed not the being
Who floats on your breast,
Too earnest your hurry,
Too fierce your unrest.
His, his is a duty
As plain as your own;
But he feels a dulness
Ye never have known.
He pauses in action,
He faints and gives o'er;
Brown waters of Gauley,
Ye move evermore.
Impatient ye glide,
To seek the Kanawha,
And mix with its tide—
Past hillside and meadow,
Past cliff and morass,
Receiving the tribute
Of streams as ye pass,
Ye heed not the being
Who floats on your breast,
Too earnest your hurry,
Too fierce your unrest.
His, his is a duty
As plain as your own;
But he feels a dulness
Ye never have known.
He pauses in action,
He faints and gives o'er;
227
Ye move evermore.
Brown waters of Gauley,
My fingers I lave
In the foam that lies scattered
Upon your brown wave.
From sunlight to shadow,
To shadow more dark,
'Neath the low-bending birches
I guide my rude barque;
Through the shallows whose brawling
Falls full on my ear,
Through the sharp, mossy masses
My vessel I steer.
What care I for honors,
The world might bestow,
What care I for gold,
With its glare and its glow;
The world and its troubles
I leave on the shore
Of the waters of Gauley,
That move evermore.
My fingers I lave
In the foam that lies scattered
Upon your brown wave.
From sunlight to shadow,
To shadow more dark,
'Neath the low-bending birches
I guide my rude barque;
Through the shallows whose brawling
Falls full on my ear,
Through the sharp, mossy masses
My vessel I steer.
What care I for honors,
The world might bestow,
What care I for gold,
With its glare and its glow;
The world and its troubles
I leave on the shore
Of the waters of Gauley,
That move evermore.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |