Page:Hymns of the Marshes.djvu/43

 In the leaves, 'tis palpable: low multitudinous stirring

Upwinds through the woods; the little ones, softly conferring,

Have settled my lord's to be looked for; so; they are still;

But the air and my heart and the earth are a-thrill,—

And look where the wild duck sails round the bend of the river,—

And look where a passionate shiver

Expectant is bending the blades

Of the marsh-grass in serial shimmers and shades,—

And invisible wings, fast fleeting, fast fleeting,

Are beating

The dark overhead as my heart beats,—and steady and free

Is the ebb-tide flowing from marsh to sea—

(Run home, little streams,

With your lapfuls of stars and dreams),—

And a sailor unseen is hoisting a-peak,