Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/87

Masking a land of valleys. Still the sun
Filled the vast scene with beauty ere he rose;
Then lifted he his head majestical
Above the rose-bloom wave and amber glow,
And poured his glory on the outstretched world.
As 't were a group of hunters that the dawn
Islands in undiscovered solitudes,
Who look amazed on unknown loveliness,
Canyon, or cataract, or virgin lake,
The embosomed jewel of a continent,
There stood the little company enthralled,
Lost in their vision, in the spreading light
Suddenly captive, silently ensphered,
Oblivious, fascinated, eye-entranced;
Nor longer hung they on the Roamer's breath;
Some instinct urged them; swift they broke apart;
Alone he stood, nor saw their vagrant forms,
Coursing the gleams of morning far away.
He seemed to hail a new creation there,
And from himself projected half he saw—
Thoughts of the heart and colors of the mind—
And spiritualized it. O, high miracle!
Nor all unknown unto his boyhood dawns,
When bobolinks seemed listening as they sang
Their matin song, tumbling the liquid notes

Exultant, and to harken after them;