Whirled there ’cross prairie levels bleached with heat,
For rain athirst, as we athirst to meet
And in the northern night our longing slake.
Beneath our window spread, far, pale, the lake
Crooning a song of sleep, belated, sweet,
Away, away, the veilèd moon did fleet,
Dream shadow for the rhythmic night to wake.
Clear came the dawn, and chill and coldly blue,
Black, stern, upon the shore pines rose to view.
Beneath our window floated in from far,