What time in waves enorm
Breaks the gigantic storm.
The wooded mount doth climb
To a thought intense, sublime.
The glory of all I feel;
But my heart, my heart, will steal
Down the journey of years,
Through the lands of laughter and tears,
Far back to the least of valleys
Where a slow brook curves and dallies,
Where a boy, in the twilight gleam,
Walks alone with his dream.
ON THE BAY
This watery vague how vast! This misty globe,
Seen from this center where the ferry plies,—
It plies, but seems to poise in middle air,—
Soft gray below gray heavens, and in the west
A rose-gray memory of the sunken sun;
And, where gray water touches grayer sky,
A band of darker gray prickt out with lights—
A diamond-twinkling circlet bounding all;
And where the statue looms, a quenchless star;
And where the lighthouse, a red, pulsing flame;
While the great bridge its starry diadem
Lifts through the gray, itself in grayness lost!
WASHINGTON SQUARE
This is the end of the town that I love the best.
O, lovely the hour of light from the burning west—
