Page:Eight Harvard Poets.djvu/40

 THE BRIDGE

HE lonely bridge cuts dark across the marsh Whose long pools glow with the light Of a flaring summer sunset. At this end limp bushes overhang, Palely reflected in the amber-colored water; Among them a constant banjo-twanging of frogs, And shrilling of toads and of insects Rises and falls in chorus rhythmic and stirring.

Dark, with crumbling railing and planks, The bridge leads into the sunset. Across it many lonely figures, Their eyes a-flare with the sunset, Their faces glowing with its colors, Tramp past me through the evening.

I am tired of sitting quiet Among the bushes of the shore, While the dark bridge stretches onward, And the long pools gleam with light; I am tired of the shrilling of insects And the croaking of frogs in the rushes, For the wild rice in the marsh-pools Waves its beckoning streamers in the wind, And the red sky-glory fades. 29