266
SILVER SHOAL LIGHT
And high rocks throw mildly
On the blanch'd sands a gloom;
Up the still, glistening beaches,
Up the creeks we will hie,
Over banks of bright seaweed
The ebb-tide leaves dry.
We will gaze, from the sand-hills,
At the white, sleeping town;
At the church on the hill-side—
And then come back down.
Singing: "There dwells a loved one,
But cruel is she!
She left lonely forever
The kings of the sea."
On the blanch'd sands a gloom;
Up the still, glistening beaches,
Up the creeks we will hie,
Over banks of bright seaweed
The ebb-tide leaves dry.
We will gaze, from the sand-hills,
At the white, sleeping town;
At the church on the hill-side—
And then come back down.
Singing: "There dwells a loved one,
But cruel is she!
She left lonely forever
The kings of the sea."
"It's like that now," Garth said. "I wonder if they're doing it to-night, standing on the dunes and looking at the town."
"Perhaps they are," said Joan, "though I think that it happened a long time ago."
"I wish we had Fogger's green book here," Garth said; "though it's too dark to read, even by the firelight."
"I think that I could say one of those poems," said Joan rather diffidently. "I learned some of them. Your father writes such splendid ones."
"Oh, do say them, then! You're so nice, Joan; you don't need to carry books around with you all the time."
