Poems (Thaxter)/Watching
WATCHING.
In childhood's season fair,On many a balmy, moonless summer night,While wheeled the light-house arms of dark and bright Far through the humid air;
How patient have I been,Sitting alone, a happy little maid,Waiting to see, careless and unafraid, My father's boat come in;
Close to the water's edgeHolding a tiny spark, that he might steer(So dangerous the landing, far and near,) Safe past the ragged ledge.
I had no fears,—not one;The wild wide waste of water leagues aroundWashed ceaselessly; there was no human sound, And I was all alone.
But Nature was so kind!Like a dear friend I loved the loneliness;My heart rose glad as at some sweet caress When passed the wandering wind.
Yet it was joy to hearFrom out the darkness, sounds grow clear at last,Of rattling rowlock, and of creaking mast, And voices drawing near!
"Is't thou, dear father? Say!"What well known shout resounded in reply,As loomed the tall sail, smitten suddenly With the great light-house ray!
I will be patient now,Dear Heavenly Father, waiting here for thee:I know the darkness holds thee. Shall I be Afraid, when it is Thou?
On thy eternal shore,In pauses, when life's tide is at its prime,I hear the everlasting rote of Time Beating for evermore.
Shall I not then rejoice?O never lost or sad should child of thineSit waiting, fearing lest there come no sign, No whisper of thy voice!
