Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
IV. Inland Waters: HighlandsTo Seneca Lake
James Gates Percival (17951856)O
The wild swan spreads his snowy sail,
And round his breast the ripples break,
As down he bears before the gale.
The dipping paddle echoes far,
And flashes in the moonlight gleam,
And bright reflects the polar star.
As blows the north-wind, heave their foam,
And curl around the dashing oar,
As late the boatman hies him home.
Thy golden mirror spreading wide,
And see the mist of mantling blue
Float round the distant mountain’s side.
A sheet of silver spreads below,
And swift she cuts, at highest noon,
Light clouds, like wreaths of purest snow.
O, I could ever sweep the oar,
When early birds at morning wake,
And evening tells us toil is o’er!