14.10.2007, 16:14
Florence Ralston Werum
1888 - 1960 Canada
THE HARBOUR
In the stilled back-wash the old man dozes,
His oars at ease, his nodding rest attained
In fancy's clear mirage; as the day closes
He lives his best and least in dreams refrained.
The gently stirring ripples turn his thoughts
Back to the morning's eager running day
Now doubly dear, in knowledge hardly bought
That even harried waters' press gives way.
Wave-breasting youth, and all high hopes and fears
Pass in fogged panorama of regret!
Broad-shouldered courage tips the stooping years,
The sail now lowered in the pale sunset.
He counts it well his harbour to regain
The tide that outward goes, returns again.
1888 - 1960 Canada
THE HARBOUR
In the stilled back-wash the old man dozes,
His oars at ease, his nodding rest attained
In fancy's clear mirage; as the day closes
He lives his best and least in dreams refrained.
The gently stirring ripples turn his thoughts
Back to the morning's eager running day
Now doubly dear, in knowledge hardly bought
That even harried waters' press gives way.
Wave-breasting youth, and all high hopes and fears
Pass in fogged panorama of regret!
Broad-shouldered courage tips the stooping years,
The sail now lowered in the pale sunset.
He counts it well his harbour to regain
The tide that outward goes, returns again.