 | The hill of stones and other poems |  |
69
NIGHT-LAKE HELEN.
I lie in my red canoe
On the waters still and deep,
And o'er me darkens the sky,
And beneath the billows sleep;
On the waters still and deep,
And o'er me darkens the sky,
And beneath the billows sleep;
Till, between the stars above
And those in the lake's embrace,
I seem to float like the dead
In the noiselessness of space.
And those in the lake's embrace,
I seem to float like the dead
In the noiselessness of space.
Betwixt two worlds I drift,
A bodiless soul again—
Between the still thoughts of God
And those which belong to men;
A bodiless soul again—
70
And those which belong to men;
And out of the height above,
And out of the deep below,
A thought that is like a ghost
Doth gather and gain and grow,
And out of the deep below,
A thought that is like a ghost
Doth gather and gain and grow,
That now and forevermore
This silence of death shall hold,
While the nations fade and die,
And the countless years are rolled.
This silence of death shall hold,
While the nations fade and die,
And the countless years are rolled.
But I turn the light canoe,
And, darting across the night,
Am glad of the paddles' noise
And the camp-fire's honest light.
And, darting across the night,
Am glad of the paddles' noise
And the camp-fire's honest light.
| The hill of stones and other poems | |