An Evening Ride by Owen Innsly


We ride and ride. High on the hills The fir-trees stretch into the sky; The birches, which the deep calm stills, Quiver again as we speed by.
Beside the road a shallow stream Goes leaping o'er its rocky bed: Here lie the corn-fields with a gleam Of daisies white and poppies red.
A faint star trembles in the west; A fire-fly sparkles, fluttering bright Against the mountain's sombre breast; And yonder shines a village light.
Oh! could I creep into thine arms Beloved! and upon thy face Read the arrest of dire alarms That press me close; from thy embrace
View the sweet earth as on we ride. Alas! how vain our longings are! Already night is spreading wide Her sable wing, and thou art far.