Emily Pauline Johnson

(10 March 1861 – 7 March 1913 / Chiefswood, Ontario)

Moonset

Poem by Emily Pauline Johnson

Idles the night wind through the dreaming firs,
That waking murmur low,
As some lost melody returning stirs
The love of long ago;
And through the far, cool distance, zephyr fanned.
The moon is sinking into shadow-land.

The troubled night-bird, calling plaintively,
Wanders on restless wing;
The cedars, chanting vespers to the sea,
Await its answering,
That comes in wash of waves along the strand,
The while the moon slips into shadow-land.

O! soft responsive voices of the night
I join your minstrelsy,
And call across the fading silver light
As something calls to me;
I may not all your meaning understand,
But I have touched your soul in shadow-land.


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Read poems about / on: moon, silver, lost, wind, night, sea, light, dream



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004