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Poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
To-night I hunger so, Beloved one, to know If you recall and crave again the dream That haunted our canoe, And wove its witchcraft through Our hearts as 'neath the northern night we sailed the northern stream. Ah! dear, if only we As yesternight could be Afloat within that light and lonely shell, To drift in silence till Heart-hushed, and lulled and still The moonlight through the melting air flung forth its fatal spell. The dusky summer night, The path of gold and white The moon had cast across the river's breast, The shores in shadows clad, The far-away, half-sad Sweet singing of the whip-poor-will, all soothed our souls to rest. You trusted I could feel My arm as strong as steel, So still your upturned face, so calm your breath, While circling eddies curled, While laughing rapids whirled From boulder unto boulder, till they dashed themselves to death. Your splendid eyes aflame Put heaven's stars to shame, Your god-like head so near my lap was laid - My hand is burning where It touched your wind-blown hair, As sweeping to the rapids verge, I changed my paddle blade. The boat obeyed my hand, Till wearied with its grand Wild anger, all the river lay aswoon, And as my paddle dipped, Thro' pools of pearl it slipped And swept beneath a shore of shade, beneath a velvet moon. To-night, again dream you Our spirit-winged canoe Is listening to the rapids purling past? Where, in delirium reeled Our maddened hearts that kneeled To idolize the perfect world, to taste of love at last.
Emily Pauline Johnson
Emily Pauline Johnson's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org