O golden hours of summer's precious leisure!
From care and toil apart
Fresh drawn, I taste the angler's gentle pleasure
With friend of equal heart.
Trout leap and glitter, and the wild duck flutters
Where beds of lilies blow:
A loon his long, weird lamentation utters,
And Echo feels his woe.
We see in hemlock shade the reedy shallow,
Where, screened by dusky leaves,
The guileless moose comes down to browse and wallow
On still balsamic eves.
The great blue heron starts as if we sought her,
On pinions of surprise,
And to our lure the darlings of the water
In pink and crimson rise.
Still gliding on, how throng the sweet romances
Of Youth's enchanted land!
A lordly eagle, as our bark advances,
Glares on us, sad and grand.
Onward we float where mellow sunset glory
Streams o'er the lakelet's breast,
And every ripple tells a golden story
Of the transfigured west.
Onward, into the evening's calm and beauty,
To camp and sleep we go:
Thrice bless'd are lives, in tasks of love and duty,
That end in such a glow!
--HORATIO NELSON POWERS.
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