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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413323" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Canoe</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">My masters twain made me a bed<br>Of pine-boughs resinous, and cedar;<br>Of moss, a soft and gentle breeder<br>Of dreams of rest; and me they spread<br>With furry skins, and laughing said,<br>'Now she shall lay her polish'd sides,<br>As queens do rest, or dainty brides,<br>Our slender lady of the tides!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My masters twain their camp-soul lit,<br>Streamed incense from the hissing cones,<br>Large, crimson flashes grew and whirl'd<br>Thin, golden nerves of sly light curl'd<br>Round the dun camp, and rose faint zones,<br>Half way about each grim bole knit,<br>Like a shy child that would bedeck<br>With its soft clasp a Brave's red neck;<br>Yet sees the rough shield on his breast,<br>The awful plumes shake on his crest,<br>And fearful drops his timid face,<br>Nor dares complete the sweet embrace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Into the hollow hearts of brakes,<br>Yet warm from sides of does and stags,<br>Pass'd to the crisp dark river flags;<br>Sinuous, red as copper snakes,<br>Sharp-headed serpents, made of light,<br>Glided and hid themselves in night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My masters twain, the slaughtered deer<br>Hung on fork'd boughs--with thongs of leather.<br>Bound were his stiff, slim feet together--<br>His eyes like dead stars cold and drear;<br>The wand'ring firelight drew near<br>And laid its wide palm, red and anxious,<br>On the sharp splendor of his branches;<br>On the white foam grown hard and sere<br>On flank and shoulder.<br>Death--hard as breast of granite boulder,<br>And under his lashes<br>Peer'd thro' his eyes at his life's grey ashes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My masters twain sang songs that wove<br>(As they burnish'd hunting blade and rifle)<br>A golden thread with a cobweb trifle--<br>Loud of the chase, and low of love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Love, art thou a silver fish?<br>Shy of the line and shy of gaffing,<br>Which we do follow, fierce, yet laughing,<br>Casting at thee the light-wing'd wish,<br>And at the last shall we bring thee up<br>From the crystal darkness under the cup<br>Of lily folden,<br>On broad leaves golden?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Love! art thou a silver deer,<br>Swift thy starr'd feet as wing of swallow,<br>While we with rushing arrows follow;<br>And at the last shall we draw near,<br>And over thy velvet neck cast thongs--<br>Woven of roses, of stars, of songs?<br>New chains all moulden<br>Of rare gems olden!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They hung the slaughter'd fish like swords<br>On saplings slender--like scimitars<br>Bright, and ruddied from new-dead wars,<br>Blaz'd in the light--the scaly hordes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They piled up boughs beneath the trees,<br>Of cedar-web and green fir tassel;<br>Low did the pointed pine tops rustle,<br>The camp fire blush'd to the tender breeze.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hounds laid dew-laps on the ground,<br>With needles of pine sweet, soft and rusty--<br>Dream'd of the dead stag stout and lusty;<br>A bat by the red flames wove its round.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The darkness built its wigwam walls<br>Close round the camp, and at its curtain<br>Press'd shapes, thin woven and uncertain,<br>As white locks of tall waterfalls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413323" data-title="The Canoe de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="My masters twain made me a bed Of pine-boughs resinous, and cedar; Of moss, a soft and gentle breeder Of dreams of rest; and me they spread With furry skins, and laughing said, 'Now she shall lay her polish'd sides, As queens do rest, or dainty br..."></div> </div> </div>
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