Part 32 (1/2)

The Secret.

Nightingales warble about it, All night under blossom and star; The wild swan is dying without it, And the eagle cryeth afar; The sun he doth mount but to find it, Searching the green earth o'er; But more doth a man's heart mind it, Oh, more, more, more!

Over the gray leagues of ocean The infinite yearneth alone; The forests with wandering emotion The thing they know not intone; Creation arose but to see it, A million lamps in the blue; But a lover he shall be it If one sweet maid is true.

G.E. WOODBERRY.

The Whip-poor-will.[16]

Do you remember, father,-- It seems so long ago,-- The day we fished together Along the Pocono?

At dusk I waited for you, Beside the lumber-mill, And there I heard a hidden bird That chanted, ”whip-poor-will,”

”_Whippoorwill! whippoorwill!_”

Sad and shrill,--”_whippoorwill!_”

The place was all deserted; The mill-wheel hung at rest; The lonely star of evening Was quivering in the west; The veil of night was falling; The winds were folded still; And everywhere the trembling air Re-echoed ”whip-poor-will!”

”_Whippoorwill! whippoorwill!_”

Sad and shrill,--”_whippoorwill!_”

You seemed so long in coming, I felt so much alone; The wide, dark world was round me, And life was all unknown; The hand of sorrow touched me, And made my senses thrill With all the pain that haunts the strain Of mournful whip-poor-will.

”_Whippoorwill! whippoorwill!_”

Sad and shrill,--”_whippoorwill!_”

What did I know of trouble?

An idle little lad; I had not learned the lessons That make men wise and sad, I dreamed of grief and parting, And something seemed to fill My heart with tears, while in my ears Resounded ”whip-poor-will.”

”_Whippoorwill! whippoorwill!_”

Sad and shrill,--”_whippoorwill!_”

'Twas but a shadowy sadness, That lightly pa.s.sed away; But I have known the substance Of sorrow, since that day.

For nevermore at twilight, Beside the silent mill, I'll wait for you, in the falling dew, And hear the whip-poor-will.

”_Whippoorwill! whippoorwill!_”

Sad and shrill,--”_whippoorwill!_”

But if you still remember, In that fair land of light, The pains and fears that touch us Along this edge of night, I think all earthly grieving, And all our mortal ill, To you must seem like a boy's sad dream, Who hears the whip-poor-will.