Page:Poems Thaxter.djvu/45

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WATCHING.
In childhood's season fair,
On many a balmy, moonless summer night,
While wheeled the light-house arms of dark and bright
Far through the humid air;

How patient have I been,
Sitting alone, a happy little maid,
Waiting to see, careless and unafraid,
My father's boat come in;

Close to the water's edge
Holding a tiny spark, that he might steer
(So dangerous the landing, far and near,)
Safe past the ragged ledge.

I had no fears,—not one;
The wild wide waste of water leagues around
Washed ceaselessly; there was no human sound,
And I was all alone.