Black lie the hills; swiftly doth daylight flee; <br />And, catching gleams of sunset's dying smile, <br />Through the dusk land for many a changing mile <br />The river runneth softly to the sea. <br /> <br />O happy river, could I follow thee! <br />O yearning heart, that never can be still! <br />O wistful eyes, that watch the steadfast hill, <br />Longing for level line of solemn sea! <br /> <br />Have patience; here are flowers and songs of birds, <br />Beauty and fragrance, wealth of sound and sight, <br />All summer's glory thine from morn till night, <br />And life too full of joy for uttered words. <br /> <br />Neither am I ungrateful; but I dream <br />Deliciously how twilight falls to-night <br />Over the glimmering water, how the light <br />Dies blissfully away, until I seem <br /> <br />To feel the wind, sea-scented, on my cheek, <br />To catch the sound of dusky flapping sail <br />And dip of oars, and voices on the gale <br />Afar off, calling low, -- my name they speak! <br /> <br />O Earth! Thy summer song of joy may soar <br />Ringing to heaven in triumph. I but crave <br />The sad, caressing murmur of the wave <br />That breaks in tender music on the shore.<br /><br />Celia Thaxter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/land-locked/
