Poems (Prescott)/Deer Island's Evening

by Mary Newmarch Prescott

DEER ISLAND'S EVENING

Softly the daylight fades on the river,
 Stars come trooping into the dark,
Great pine boughs lean over and shiver,
 Fireflies kindle each tiny spark.

Grandly the tide bears toward the ocean,
 Obeying an impulse it may not defy,
Sweeping us on with rhythmical motion
 Under the archway of mighty sky.

Silvery echoes answer our singing,—
 Voices of some aerial band,
Or bells of faëry sweetly ringing
 From ruined towers of some ancient land