The Marshes of Glynn

I. As the river flows softly I could lie, I think, in your flow,
And close my eyes to the sight
Of the glimmering fading glow, While the droning of day took flight.

II. The reed would assemble to sing the marshland moans of the nights,
And, bard-like, broke forth with a new-groaned fling
Youth’s tremor as the soft moon-lights, Shining bright in their heavenly blight.

III. To the marsh, my heart sets its sail,
With life’s myriad courses alive,
I would gather, lavish in my tale
The secrets that this creation provides. —Sidney Lanier

• Sidney Lanier