Sunday in CinCity

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Long Island Sound


by Emma Lazarus



I see it as it looked one afternoon

In August,—by a fresh soft breeze o'erblown.

The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon,

A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon.

The shining waters with pale currents strewn,

The quiet fishing-smacks, the Eastern cove,

The semi-circle of its dark, green grove.

The luminous grasses, and the merry sun

In the grave sky; the sparkle far and wide,

Laughter of unseen children, cheerful chirp

Of crickets, and low lisp of rippling tide,

Light summer clouds fantastical as sleep

Changing unnoted while I gazed thereon.

All these fair sounds and sights I made my own.



Comments

  1. LydiaAugust 14, 2011 at 2:57 AM

    Ah, Emma! Her love for New York, for life itself, is so evident in her poetry. I love this very much.

    ReplyDelete
  2. dsAugust 14, 2011 at 8:17 AM

    Lovely. Thank you for sharing--and the photo is perfect!

    ReplyDelete
  3. RudeeAugust 14, 2011 at 8:19 AM

    Looks like a peaceful spot. Wish I were there.

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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