C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
George Arnold (1834–1865)
Drift
A
And vanished in the gleaming west,
Where purple clouds a lining bore
Of gold and amethyst.
His white wings in the sun’s last ray;
A moment hung, then downward dashed
To revel in the spray.
With careful eye and steady hand,
Till olive back and silvery fin
Strewed all the tawny sand.
The sea-gull circled high in air;
Again the sturdy fishermen
Drew in their nets with care.
Shone fairly, as I paced the shore,
But back from out the gleaming west
The ship came—nevermore!
A flood of sunlight through a rift
Between two mounds of yellow sand;
Three sea-gulls on a bit of drift
Slow surging inward toward the land;
With drabbled seaweed round its feet;
A star-like sail against the sky,
Where sapphire heaven and ocean meet;—
A shifting stretch of land and shell,
Will make, for him who loves the shore,
A picture that may please him well.
O cool, green waves that ebb and flow,
Reflecting calm blue skies above,
How gently now ye come and go,
Since ye have drowned my love!
The breakers come and the breakers go
Along the silvery sand,
With a changing line of feathery snow
Between the water and land.
On the ledges of wave-worn stone;
Orange and crimson, purple and white,
In regular windrows strown.
When the wind goes down with the sun;
So fade the smiles of those who deceive,
When the coveted heart is won.