Impressions in and about Portland, Maine . MOTHERLAND To-night across my senses steals the perfume ofthe pine, Oh, sweeter far to homesick hearts than draughtsof fragrant wine ; Again upHft the seagirt isles where sylvan beautiesreign, And dreams of thee come back to me, Oh, Mother-land of Maine. Thy glories gleam before my eyes, as in the oldendays, I see again the labyrinths of Cascos lovely bays ; The sea gulls cry rings in mv ears, as oer thefoam he flies. And memory sets her signal lights along the dark-ened skies. Theres laughter in the swaying pines, theresmusic in the gale ; Each ship
Impressions in and about Portland, Maine . MOTHERLAND To-night across my senses steals the perfume ofthe pine, Oh, sweeter far to homesick hearts than draughtsof fragrant wine ; Again upHft the seagirt isles where sylvan beautiesreign, And dreams of thee come back to me, Oh, Mother-land of Maine. Thy glories gleam before my eyes, as in the oldendays, I see again the labyrinths of Cascos lovely bays ; The sea gulls cry rings in mv ears, as oer thefoam he flies. And memory sets her signal lights along the dark-ened skies. Theres laughter in the swaying pines, theresmusic in the gale ; Each ship upon the sea tonight is some remem-bered sail, And peering through the flying mist, that holdsme in its spell, I cry, What ho! O mariners! the answer is,Farewell ! Like phantom ships before the wind, they to theirhavens flee. While I a wanderer must drift upon a shorelesssea. But while the fires of being burn w^ithin the con-scious brain. My eyes will seek thy far-off coast. Oh, Mother-land of Maine. — Robert CASCO BAY Nowhere fairer, sweeter, rarer, o;-olden-locked huit bearer Through his painted woodlands, where hillside oaks and beechesOverlook the long, blue coves and pebbled beaches. And green isles of Casco Bay ; Nowhere day, for delay,With a tenderer look beseeches Let me with my charmed earth stay, On the grain-lands of the main-landsStands the serried corn like train-bands, Plume and pennon rustling gay ;Out at sea the islands birches, golden with maples, crimson-blooded. White sea-foam and sand-hills gray. Stretch away, far and dreamy, over-brooded By the hazy autumn day. —John G. Whittier 13
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectportlan, bookyear1910
