Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By CeliaThaxter656 Seaward
H
When, leaning from the window, you and I
Heard, clearly ringing from the shadowy bight,
The loon’s unearthly cry!
Ran rippling round the point in mellow tune,
But mournful, like the voice of one who raves,
That laughter of the loon!
Uprose the meagre moon behind us, slow,
So dim, the fleet of boats we scarce could trace,
Moored lightly just below.
We sent the note back. Echoing rock and bay
Made melancholy music far and near;
Sadly it died away.
Her canvas catching every wandering beam,
Aerial, noiseless, past the glimmering coast
She glided like a dream.
Together calling to the eerie loon,
The fresh wind blowing care from either brow,
This sumptuous night of June!
’T is hard to breathe, nor can we find relief:
However lightly touched, we all must share
This nobleness of grief.
Vaguely they mingle with the water’s rune;
No sadder sound salutes you than the clear,
Wild laughter of the loon.