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BY
LONGFELLOW
The BRIDGE
How often,oh how often,
As the clocks were striking the hour, Thad wished that the ebbing tide
Would bear me away on its bosom
Oer the ocean wild and wide!
And the moon rose oer the city
Behind the dark church tower.
I saw her bright reflection
In the waters under me,
Like a golden ġoblet falling
And sinking ino the sea.
For my heart was hot and restless,
`And my life was full of care,
And the burden laid upon me
Seemed greater thanIcould bear.
And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.
But now it has fallen from me-
It is buried in the sea;
And only the sorrow of others
Throws its shadow over me.
Yet whenever Icross the river
Onits bridge with wooden piers,
And the current that came from the ocean Like the odor of brine from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away; Comes the thought of other years.
Among the long, black rafters
The wavering shadows lay,
As,sweeping and eddying through them, And I think how many thousands
Of care-encumbered men,
And, streaming into the moonlight, Each bearing his burden of sorrow,
Have crossed the bridge since then.
Rose the belated tide,
The seaweed floated wide.
And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
A flood of thoughts came oer me
That filled my eyes with tears.
I see the long procession
Still passing to and fro-
The young heart hot and restless,
And the old subdued and slow!
How often, oh how often,
In the days that had gone by,
And forever and forever,
As long as the river flows,
Thad stood on that bridge at midnight As long as the heart has passions,
And gazed on that wave and sky! As long as life hàs woes.
The moon and its broken reflection
And its shadow shall appear,
As the symbol of love in heaven,
And its wavering image here.
M.T. SHEAHAN, BOSION
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MADE AND PUBLISHED BY M T. SHEAHAN, BOSTON
