Page:Poems Denver.djvu/81

Of her expectant and returning sails,
Out-stripped the wings of morning, and the steps
Of shadowy night, to where the highest rock,
Looked farthest out, above the ocean-depths.

Hours came, and passed with heavy steps away,
Laden with tears. Days followed in their path,
Mournful with sighs; and staggering far behind,
As over-burdened with their weight of woe,
Years followed after, silent with despair.
Yet there were moments, when his softened heart,
Softened by tears and eloquent with sighs,
Acknowledged it was good to be alone.

Lo! in the hidden depths of solitude,
How many a stream breaks forth and fills the air
With a sweet voice of melody and love!
And in the lonely hours of human life,
When like a chained and prisoned being, man
Is first compelled to think—how many a fount,
Amidst the bitterness that makes the heart
Even like a barren desert—gushes forth
To light, and life, and energy and love!

When from the far-off island of the sea
A strange ship touched the rocky strand, and brought
Full many a wondering face upon her deck,
They found him not alone. A voice had spoken
Amid the silent watches of the night,