Longing outspeeds the breeze, I know.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
Patience, my mates! Though not this eve
We cast our anchor, yet believe,
If but the wind holds, short the run:
We'll sail in with to-morrow's sun.
O ye ho, boys. Spread her wings!
Fair winds, boys: send her home!
O ye ho!
FIRST GLANCE
A budding mouth and warm blue eyes;
A laughing face; and laughing hair,--
So ruddy was its rise
From off that forehead fair;
Frank fervor in whate'er she said,
And a shy grace when she was still;
A bright, elastic tread;
Enthusiastic will;
These wrought the magic of a maid
As sweet and sad as the sun in spring;--
Joyous, yet half-afraid
Her joyousness to sing.
BRIDE BROOK
Wide as the sky Time spreads his hand,
And blindly over us there blows
A swarm of years that fill the land,
Then fade, and are as fallen snows.
Behold, the flakes rush thick and fast;
Or are they years, that come between,--
When, peering back into the past,
I search the legendary scene?
Nay. Marshaled down the open coast,
Fearless of that low rampart's frown,
The winter's white-winged, footless host
Beleaguers ancient Saybrook town.
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