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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE LOON, by ELEANOR STIMSON BROOKS
First Line: A silent, winding stream, that wanders slow
Last Line: Since the dim days that did creation mark.
Alternate Author Name(s): Brooks, Van Wyck, Mrs.
Subject(s): Loons; Wellesley College
First Line: A silent, winding stream, that wanders slow
Last Line: Since the dim days that did creation mark.
Alternate Author Name(s): Brooks, Van Wyck, Mrs.
Subject(s): Loons; Wellesley College
A SILENT, winding stream, that wanders slow
Through tall marsh grasses, whispering in the night,
Far down within its shadow depths; the light
Of many twinkling stars, that faintly glow,
While over them come, drifting aimlessly
The pale, light wreaths of mist, the night breeze brings.
Like gentle ghosts of timid woodland things
From out the forest's shrouded mystery.
Low in the sky, hangs the dim crescent moon.
But hark! Across the marsh, a wavering note!
Unutterably lonely, wild, remote,
The melancholy night call of the loon!
A quavering voice, it rises from the dark,
A wild complaint, a cry primordial, rare,
The very soul of heartbreak and despair
Since the dim days that did creation mark.
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