The Dread Voyage Poems

by William Wilfred Campbell


 

DUSK


 

DOWN by the shore at even, when the waves
      Lap lightly on the reedy rims, and soft,
      One trembling star, a blossom, flames aloft,
Where the sunk sun the western heaven laves
With lowest tides of day; the tired world craves
5
      For the great night, that cometh brooding in,
      With draught of healing over earth’s far din,
And blessed rest that recreates and saves.

Far in the breathing woods the whip-poor-will
      Reiterates his plaintive note; and hark!

10
      A dusky night-hawk whirrs athwart the dark,
Haunting the shadows, till in silvern swoon,
Hunted by her own spirit, strange and still,
      Over the waters comes the wan, white moon.