Page:The Overland Monthly, Jan-June 1894.djvu/188

And what the craft that he could safely ride.
"At midnight, tide is on the ebb," said he,
"But naught to take you safely o'er the sea."
Up spoke the bos'n: "'T will be clear tonight,
The tide's a boomin' and the skiff is tight;
So if the youngster 'll meet me at the dock,
We'll drop off down the Sound at twelve o'clock;
And morning's sun will sure be first to see,
Port Townsend on the cliffs, the skiff, and we."

At midnight, on the dark and silent shore
The sturdy boatman rested on his oar;
His skiff, with every speeding wave and swell,
Responsive to their motions, rose and fell.
The youth adroitly leaped into his place,
And keel and tide commenced their midnight race.

Oh silent night, in soft, September air!
Oh grand and lovely Sound, beyond compare!
The crescent moon has vanished in the west,
And all the stars are mirrored in thy breast.
Oe'r the horizon's rim, the Pleiades
Reflect their brilliance in the glassy seas;
Orion holds his gleaming saber high;
His jeweled belt with splendor lights the sky;
While Aldebaran shines with ruddy glow,
And Sirius flashes diamonds from below.

As down the smooth but rapid tide they steer,
The shadows of the forest disappear,
And pulse of engine, sound of busy mill,
No more are heard; but all is hushed and still.
The skiff is held with firm and careful hand;
And rides the fleeting waters far from land;
Till naught attracts the youth's admiring eye,
But visions in the dark, ethereal sky.

He sees, in serried ranks of bright array,
The myriad army of the Milky Way,
And longs for rank, for honor and renown,
The victor's trophy and the laurel crown.
His youthful ardor sweetest hopes impart,
And wakes the dearest mem'ries of his heart.
"Oh darling one! may sweet thy dreaming be;
And whilst thou 'rt slumbering, dearest, dream of me."

And now, remote from land, the fresh'ning breeze
Grows chill, and higher swell the rushing seas,
And every wave the following wave o'ertakes,