 | Leaves of grass (1872) |  |
THE TORCH.
On my northwest coast in the midst of the night, a fishermen's group stands watching;Out on the lake, that expands before them, others are spearing salmon;
The canoe, a dim shadowy thing, moves across the black water,
Bearing a Torch a-blaze at the prow.
| Leaves of grass (1872) | |