The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . the huge singers deep bass,As he reaches the low, sandy shore,I can see where his bold riders raceTo the rocks, they so strive to get oet. 351 How the waves would oerwhelm us with fearIf not drunk by the unappeased sand,In a flash, does each drop disappear,All absorbed by the ocean and can feel the salt air on my far Greenland and Africa blown,And I wonder how Neptune can knov/The proportion of each for this zone. All of this and much more do I see,All of this and much more do I hear;I am looking my darling at thee,And I hear your sweet
The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . the huge singers deep bass,As he reaches the low, sandy shore,I can see where his bold riders raceTo the rocks, they so strive to get oet. 351 How the waves would oerwhelm us with fearIf not drunk by the unappeased sand,In a flash, does each drop disappear,All absorbed by the ocean and can feel the salt air on my far Greenland and Africa blown,And I wonder how Neptune can knov/The proportion of each for this zone. All of this and much more do I see,All of this and much more do I hear;I am looking my darling at thee,And I hear your sweet voice as if , my love, I am with you this morn,On the shore of the far stretching although you may think you are are never far absent from me. July 27, 1890. TO MY WIFE AND BOYS When Spending Their Vacation on the Coast of Maine. I am waiting, waiting, the darkness and the gloom;I am waiting and debatingWith these phantoms in my falls upon my eyesight,Gently stirred by passing breeze, 352. O G p ui o i-i >> 03 ^ ,,j i-Q rt .-H j:: & aj o XI OJ O kH -•-• o -a J=, c O With the flicker of the street HghtThe deep shadows of the trees. How their lofty tops are swayingAnd, in yielding to the airAll the changeful shadows, like phantoms round my chair;While the sprites and fleeting gracesAs they glide along the street,Turn to gnomes with such queer facesAs would frighten one to meet. How my room they strangely people! If I turn towards the sky, I can see the stately steeple. See the fleecy clouds pass by. Or behold the bright stars burning. Melt their way into the blue, While my thoughts are oft returning. Darling wife and boys, to you. Can you wonder when awaitingWhy my heart seems ill at ease,Why my fancy is creatingFrom these children of the trees—The strange beckning of a the shadows come and seems asking Why so linger?—For the sands of Time run slow. 353 No, the lamp upon my table, I will
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