 | The hill of stones and other poems |  |
75
PADDLE-SONG.
The mist is thick, the waters quick,
And fast we slit along;
The foam-bells flash, the paddles splash,—
Sing us a merry song.
And fast we slit along;
The foam-bells flash, the paddles splash,—
Sing us a merry song.
What 's this I see come swift to me
Across the rapids dark?
A princess fair, with yellow hair,
A red canoe of bark.
Across the rapids dark?
76
A red canoe of bark.
Her golden hair floats thick and fair
Far, far behind her lee,
And pike and trout come leaping out,
Her merry locks to see.
Far, far behind her lee,
And pike and trout come leaping out,
Her merry locks to see.
With a silver gun, a silver gun,
The tall white swan she slew:
He moaned a hymn, his sight grew dim,
It might have been I or you.
The tall white swan she slew:
He moaned a hymn, his sight grew dim,
It might have been I or you.
The feathers, white as the still moonlight,
Toss red on the waters free,
And gay trout break the silent lake,
The small white boats to see.
Toss red on the waters free,
And gay trout break the silent lake,
The small white boats to see.
The silver ball has found his heart:
It might have hit you or me.
The round white ball has found his heart:
Ah sad! ah sad to see!
It might have hit you or me.
77
Ah sad! ah sad to see!
Quick is the flash of her paddle's dash,
And far and free behind,
In the roar and splash of the rapids' crash,
Her hair floats on the wind.
And far and free behind,
In the roar and splash of the rapids' crash,
Her hair floats on the wind.
Turn not to view her swift canoe;
Ave Maria! beware! beware!
Look not behind, where wave and wind
Roll out her rippled hair.
Ave Maria! beware! beware!
Look not behind, where wave and wind
Roll out her rippled hair.
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