| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
3o8 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
|
||
|
'Twas silent on the hillside,
And by the solemn wood No sound of life or motion
To break the solitude,
Save the wailing of the moose-bird With a plaintive note and low,
And the skating of the red leaf Upon the frozen snow.
And said I,—" Though dark is falling, And far the camp must be, - Yet my heart it would be lightsome, If I had but company.''
And then I sang and shouted, Keeping measure as I sped,
To the harp twang of the snow-shoe As it sprang beneath my tread;
Not far into the valley
Had I dipped upon my way,
When a dusky figure joined me, In a capuchon of gray,
Bending upon the snow-shoes, With a long and limber stride;
And I hailed the dusky stranger, As we traveled side by side.
But no token of communion
Gave he by word or look, And the fear chill fell upon me
At the crossing of the brook. |
||
|
|
||