By Mount Hope Bay

The evening hour had brought its peace,
Brought end of toil to weary hands.
From wearying thoughts to find release
Alone I sought the ocean sands.
Dark rain-clouds southward hovering nigh
Gave to the sea their leaden hue;
But in the west the open sky
Its rose-light on the waters threw.

I stood with heart more quiet grown,
And watched the pulses of the tide,
The huge black rocks, the seaweed brown,
The gray beach stretched on either side,
The boat that dropped its one white sail
Where the steep yellow bank ran down,
And, o'er the clump of willows pale,
The white towers of the neighboring town.

A cool light brooded o'er the land,
A changing lustre lit the bay,
The wave just plashed along the sand,
And voices sounded far away.
Past days rose up to memory's eye
Dark with some clouds of leaden hue,—
But many a space of open sky
Its rose-light on those waters threw.

Then came to me the dearest friend,
Whose beauteous soul to all things fair
Doth, like the sea, new beauty lend
And glorify each image there.
The thoughts which words could never tell
Through subtler senses were made known;
I raised my eyes, the darkness fell;
I stood upon the sands—alone!
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