The Haunts of the Halcyon

To stand within a gently gliding boat, Urged by a noiseless paddle at the stern, Whipping the crystal mirror of the fern In fairy bays where water-lilies float; To hear your reel’s whirr echoed by the throat Of a wild mocking-bird, or round some turn To chance upon a wood-duck’s brood that churn Swift passage toward their mother’s warning note,— This is to rule a realm that nevermore May aught but restful weariness invade; This is to live again the old days o’er, When nymph and dryad haunted stream and glade; To dream sweet, idle dreams of having strayed To Arcady, with all its golden lore.

Collection: 
English
Charles Henry Luders

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