Читать книгу Poems - Julia C. R. Dorr - Страница 14

Table of Contents

Spinning, spinning, by the sea, All the night! On a stormy, rock-ribbed shore, Where the north winds downward pour, And the tempests fiercely sweep From the mountains to the deep, Hilda spins beside the sea, All the night!

Spinning, at her lonely window, By the sea! With her candle burning clear, Every night of all the year, And her sweet voice crooning low, Quaint old songs of love and woe, Spins she at her lonely window, By the sea.

On a bitter night in March, Long ago, Hilda, very young and fair, With a crown of golden hair, Watched the tempest raging wild, Watched the roaring sea—and smiled Through that woeful night in March, Long ago!

What though all the winds were out In their might? Richard’s boat was tried and true; Stanch and brave his hardy crew; Strongest he to do or dare. Said she, breathing forth a prayer, “He is safe, though winds are out In their might!”

But at length the morning dawned, Still and clear! Calm, in azure splendor, lay All the waters of the bay; And the ocean’s angry moans Sank to solemn undertones, As at last the morning dawned, Still and clear!

With her waves of golden hair Floating free, Hilda ran along the shore, Gazing off the waters o’er; And the fishermen replied, “He will come in with the tide,” As they saw her golden hair Floating free!

Ah! he came in with the tide— Came alone! Tossed upon the shining sands— Ghastly face and clutching hands— Seaweed tangled in his hair— Bruised and torn his forehead fair— Thus he came in with the tide, All alone!

Hilda watched beside her dead, Day and night. Of those hours of mortal woe Human ken may never know; She was silent, and his ear Kept the secret, close and dear, Of her watch beside her dead, Day and night!

What she promised in the darkness, Who can tell? But upon that rock-ribbed shore Burns a beacon evermore! And beside it, all the night, Hilda guards the lonely light, Though what vowed she in the darkness, None may tell!

Spinning, spinning by the sea, All the night! While her candle, gleaming wide O’er the restless, rolling tide, Guides with steady, changeless ray The lone fisher up the bay, Hilda spins beside the sea, Through the night!

Fifty years of patient spinning By the sea! Old and worn, she sleeps to-day, While the sunshine gilds the bay; But her candle, shining clear, Every night of all the year, Still is telling of her spinning By the sea!