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 | The complete poems of S. Weir Mitchell |  |
EVENING STORM—NIPIGON
Upon the beach, with low, quick, mournful sob,The weary waters shudder to our feet;
And far beyond the sunset's golden light,
Forever brighter in its lessening span,
Shares not the sadness of yon dark wood-wall,
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In growing gloom 'twixt golden lake and sky.
Fast fades the lessening day, and far beneath
The tamarack shivers and the cedar's cone
Uneasy sways, while fitful tremors stir
The tattered livery of the ragged birch;
And over all the arch of heaven is wild
With tumbled clouds, where swift the lightning's lance
Gleams ruby red and thunder-echoes roll;
Far, far below—sweet as the dream of hope
What time despair is nearest—lies the lake.
Fast comes the storm; spiked black with pattering rain,
The darkened water gleams with bells of foam.
Fast comes the storm, till over lake and sky,
O'er yellow lake and ever-yellowing sky,
Cruel and cold, the gray storm-twilights rest;
And so the day before its time is dead.
1870.
| The complete poems of S. Weir Mitchell | |