Poems (Victor)/Verses for M—
VERSES FOR M
The river on the east
Ripples its azure flood within my sight,
And, darting from the west,
Are sunset arrows feathered with red light;
The northern wind has hung
His wintry harp upon some giant pine,
And the pale stars among
I see the stars I love to name as mine,
But toward the south I turn my eager eyes—
Beyond its flushed horizon my heart lies.
The snow-clad isles of ice
Launched by wild Boreas from a northern shore
Journey the way my eyes
Turn with an envious longing evermore,
Smiling back to the sky
Its own pink blush, and, floating out of sight,
Bear south the softest dye
Of northern heavens to fade in southern night—
My eyes but look the way my joys are gone,
And the ice islands travel not alone.
The untrod fields of snow
Glow with the rosy dye of parting day,
And fancy asks if so
The snow is stained with sunset far away,
And if some face, like mine,
Its forehead pressed against the window pane,
Peers northward with the shine
Of the pole star reflected in eyes' rain;
"Ah yes," my heart says, "it is surely so,"
And like a bound bird flutters hard to go.
Port Huron, Mich., 1852.