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 | Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman |  |
228
[XXX Yet, even mid merry boyhood's tricks and scapes]
Yet, even mid merry boyhood's tricks and scapes,Early my heart a deeper lesson learnt;
Wandering alone by many a mile of burnt
Black woodside, that but the snow flake decks and drapes.
And I have stood beneath Canadian sky,
In utter solitudes, where the cricket's cry
Appals the heart, and fear takes visible shapes;
And on Long Island's void and isolate capes
Heard the sea break like iron bars: and still,
In all, I seemed to hear the same deep dirge;
Borne in the wind, the insect's tiny trill,
And crash and jangle of the shaking surge;
And knew not what they meant, prophetic woe?
Dim bodings, wherefore? Now, indeed, I know!
| Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman | |