 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
ON THE STREAM.
Night, but no cloud in the sky;
And yonder the lights of the stream gleam and quiver
In a flame-spotted pyramid up from the river,
As I float in my boat so despairingly by
On the stream.
And yonder the lights of the stream gleam and quiver
In a flame-spotted pyramid up from the river,
As I float in my boat so despairingly by
On the stream.
354
Quiet the ships at the piers;
Like a forest in winter, their masts and their spars
Stand in relief from the sky and the stars;
I can see them in spite of my fast-falling tears,
On the stream.
Like a forest in winter, their masts and their spars
Stand in relief from the sky and the stars;
I can see them in spite of my fast-falling tears,
On the stream.
Creeping from wooden-walled slips,
I watch the filled ferry-boats ply to and fro,
Impatiently pawing the wave as they go,
Threading their way through the fast-anchored ships
On the stream.
I watch the filled ferry-boats ply to and fro,
Impatiently pawing the wave as they go,
Threading their way through the fast-anchored ships
On the stream.
In the far distance, I see
No light of a lamp from a window on shore;
That was her signal last summer—no more
Will that lamp through the pane cast a glimmer for me
On the stream.
No light of a lamp from a window on shore;
That was her signal last summer—no more
Will that lamp through the pane cast a glimmer for me
On the stream.
Though as my life she was dear,
I could have borne it to think of her dead;
But deeper than that was the pang when she fled
Away with another—fled, leaving me here,
On the stream.
I could have borne it to think of her dead;
But deeper than that was the pang when she fled
Away with another—fled, leaving me here,
On the stream.
Sometimes they tell me I'm crazed;
God knows if I am; but I think not, although
I feel somewhat stunned with this dull, crushing blow;
I still keep my senses, though floating, amazed,
On the stream.
God knows if I am; but I think not, although
I feel somewhat stunned with this dull, crushing blow;
I still keep my senses, though floating, amazed,
On the stream.
Floating half way from the shore—
Thus in my boat, in and out of the light,
I drift and I drift with my woe and the night,
Till the storm comes—and then, they will see me no more
On the stream.
Thus in my boat, in and out of the light,
I drift and I drift with my woe and the night,
Till the storm comes—and then, they will see me no more
On the stream.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |