Impressions in and about Portland, Maine . pt pine trees The breath of their morning hymn :To drink from the fragrant ocean Of the perfumed air aboveAnd to feel in the soft, cool darkness The touch of Almighty Love : —This — this is the spell that binds us To the golden shores of MaineAnd that hlls our hearts with longing When the summer comes again. To bathe in the sparkling waters, To lie on the wind-swept shore,Where the murmur of pines is mingled With the mighty oceans roar ;To follow from some bare hill-top The curve of the rock-rimmed sea,With its island-dotted harbors. Where the breeze
Impressions in and about Portland, Maine . pt pine trees The breath of their morning hymn :To drink from the fragrant ocean Of the perfumed air aboveAnd to feel in the soft, cool darkness The touch of Almighty Love : —This — this is the spell that binds us To the golden shores of MaineAnd that hlls our hearts with longing When the summer comes again. To bathe in the sparkling waters, To lie on the wind-swept shore,Where the murmur of pines is mingled With the mighty oceans roar ;To follow from some bare hill-top The curve of the rock-rimmed sea,With its island-dotted harbors. Where the breeze flows fair and free : —To bask in the golden sunshine. To roam on the ope n —this is the summers glory, Ah, this is the life for me ! But when, with the cool Se])tember, The summer days have we turn once more to the city And the toil for our daily our pulses throb with power. And with eager heart and cry, with our farewell greeting : — Thank God for the isles of Maine ! — Arthur D. Ropes. 41. SONGO RIVER Nowhere such a devious stream,Save in fancy or in dream,Winding slow through bush and brakeLinks together lake and lake. Walled with woods or sandy doubling on itselfFlows the stream, so still and slowThat it hardly seems to flow. In the mirror of its tideTangled thickets on each sideHang inverted, and betweenFloating cloud or sky serene. Swift or swallow on the wingSeems the only li\ing the loon, that laughs and fliesDown to those reflected skies. Silent stream ! thy Indian nameUnfamiliar is to fame ;For thou hidest here content to be unknown. — Henry IV. Longfelloiv. 43
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectportlan, bookyear1910
