ON THE RIVER.
89
The pale moon was slowly a-waning,
But the stars they looked steadfast and sad;
The wavelets had ceased their complaining,
And the river in silence was clad.
But the stars they looked steadfast and sad;
The wavelets had ceased their complaining,
And the river in silence was clad.
But the shadows fell farther and longer,
Which told the descent of the moon;
And the joy of our hearts it grew stronger
For midnight would be on us soon.
Which told the descent of the moon;
And the joy of our hearts it grew stronger
For midnight would be on us soon.
So I took out my golden "repeater,"
And I looked at its face with a smile—
Ah! each second its ticking grew sweeter,
As the moments fled from us the while.
And I looked at its face with a smile—
Ah! each second its ticking grew sweeter,
As the moments fled from us the while.
And the minute hand went around slowly;
The second-hand kept to its pace,
Till the index stood over that holy,
Twelfth hour at the top of the face.
The second-hand kept to its pace,
Till the index stood over that holy,
Twelfth hour at the top of the face.
