Page:Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier (1895).djvu/443

Rh While, perchance, a phantom crew, In a ghostly birch canoe,
 * Paddled dumb and swiftly after!

And the bear on Ossipee Climbed the topmost crag to see
 * The strange thing drifting under;

And, through the haze of August, Passaconaway and Paugus
 * Looked down in sleepy wonder.

All the pines that o’er her hung In mimic sea-tones sung
 * The song familiar to her;

And the maples leaned to screen her, And the meadow-grass seemed greener,
 * And the breeze more soft to woo her.

The lone stream mystery-haunted To her the freedom granted
 * To scan its every feature,

Till new and old were blended, And round them both extended
 * The loving arms of Nature.

Of these hills the little vessel Henceforth is part and parcel;
 * And on Bearcamp shall her log

Be kept, as if by Georges Or Grand Menan the surges
 * Tossed her skipper through the fog.

And I, who, half in sadness, Recall the morning gladness
 * Of life, at evening time,

By chance, onlooking idly, Apart from all so widely,
 * Have set her voyage to rhyme.

Dies now the gay persistence Of song and laugh, in distance;
 * Alone with me remaining

The stream, the quiet meadow, The hills in shine and shadow,
 * The sombre pines complaining.

And, musing here, I dream Of voyagers on a stream
 * From whence is no returning,

Under sealed orders going, Looking forward little knowing,
 * Looking back with idle yearning.

And I pray that every venture The port of peace may enter,
 * That, safe from snag and fall

And siren-haunted islet, And rock, the Unseen Pilot
 * May guide us one and all.