Along the Shore

BY ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP
To G. P. L.
We see the sky,—we love it day by day; We feel the wind of Spring, from blossoms winging; We meet with souls tender as tints in May: For these large ecstasies what are we bringing?
There is no price, best friend, for greatest meed. Laid on the altar of our true affection, Wild flowers of love for me must intercede: And lo! I win your unexcelled protection.
CONTENTS
ALONG THE SHORE.

Here is a world of changing glow, Where moods roll swiftly far and wide; Waves sadder than a funeral's pride, Or bluer than the harebell's blow!
The sunlight makes the black hulls cast A firefly radiance down the deep; The inlet gleams, the long clouds sweep, The sails flit up, the sails drop past.
The far sea-line is hushed and still; The nearer sea has life and voice; Each soul may take his fondest choice,— The silence, or the restless thrill.
O little children of the deep,— The single sails, the bright, full sails, Gold in the sun, dark when it fails, Now you are smiling, then you weep!
O blue of heaven, and bluer sea, And green of wave, and gold of sky, And white of sand that stretches by, Toward east and west, away from me!