The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse
A Water SongAlexander Frederick Bruce Clark (b. 1884)
W
And the wind herds the ripples like sheep aflee,
I ship my oars, and, stretched out, I let
The water and wind take my boat and me.
Oh, floating along
To the water’s song
While the wavelets gurgle and ripple and cream,
And the fish curve forth in a watery gleam,
And the kingfisher dives and the white gulls scream,
And the clouds drift all day long.
I float in evenings clear and cool,
Where the clouds like water-lilies white
Seem lolling asleep in a golden pool.
Oh, floating along
To the water’s song
While the sun sheathes his golden sword in the lake,
And every wave is a burning flake,
And guitars in tremulous tones awake
And echo the evening long.
Where the shy, young stars come forth at night,
To see themselves in the lake’s deep glass
When darkness has banished the curious light.
Oh, floating along
To the water’s song
When the lake is a palace of pillared fires,
Or a city of churches with silver spires
Drowned for aeons with cross and choirs
That still chant all night long.