Nantucket windows

BY Edwina Stanton Babcock Author of “Greek Wayfarers,” “The Flying Parliament,” etc. The Inquirer and Mirror Press Nantucket Island, Mass. 1924 Copyright, 1924, Edwina Stanton Babcock
By whose fireside an Off-Islander first learned to love the charm and grace of Nantucket hospitality Appreciation is expressed to The National Magazine, the Nantucket Historical Society Bulletin, the Nantucket Inquirer and Mirror, and other publications, for permission to reprint some of these verses

Out on the night they glimmer, Island houses, Casements of orange lustre on the moors; Dune-hidden panes where winter sea carouses Shine on the roads that wind past farmhouse doors.
The Island windows gleam, and all the sorrow Of human life is lanterned into Dream; The fishers’ huts are splashed, the grey shacks borrow Red from the sun and weltered moonlight gleam.
Out on the dark, gold patches on the stable, Light-stippled wharves; ruby and malachite; Sharp, slanting roofs with witchlike peak and gable, Plaqued in warm squares of ruddy window light.
Thin blocks of amber in the misty weather, Oblongs of white translucence on the down; Dim, tawny lights beyond pine hidden heather, Clear coastward lights fringing the steepled town.
The grey owl flaps across the heaving hollow, The chimneyed house sinks in the commons’ wave; The cottage lights a hundred starlights follow, The Island windows shine ... the road is brave!
Limp in his chair atilt against a shack An old man broods o’er newspaper and smoke Where shingle-quilted pent roofs back to back Checker from grey of ash to black of coke; Dim squares of window, opal-paned, baroque, Waver on water, pearling it to deep Weedwafted droop of shifting shadow cloak Where swirls of silver imagery sweep. Slow ribboning to the surface serpent rings Of mast reflections quiver into grey Upon the incoming tide that softly brings One high-peaked sail along the buoyant way Where questing water tentatively steals Fingering mossy spiles and undulant keels.