THE LOONS
ONCE ye were happy, once by many a shore,Wherever Glooscap's gentle feet might stray,Lulled by his presence like a dream, ye layFloating at rest; but that was long of yore.He was too good for earthly men; he boreTheir bitter deeds for many a patient day,And then at last he took his unseen way.He was your friend, and ye might rest no more.And now, though many hundred altering yearsHave passed, among the desolate northern meresStill must ye search and wander querulously,Crying for Glooscap, still bemoan the lightWith weird entreaties, and in agonyWith awful laughter pierce the lonely night.
ONCE ye were happy, once by many a shore,Wherever Glooscap's gentle feet might stray,Lulled by his presence like a dream, ye layFloating at rest; but that was long of yore.He was too good for earthly men; he boreTheir bitter deeds for many a patient day,And then at last he took his unseen way.He was your friend, and ye might rest no more.And now, though many hundred altering yearsHave passed, among the desolate northern meresStill must ye search and wander querulously,Crying for Glooscap, still bemoan the lightWith weird entreaties, and in agonyWith awful laughter pierce the lonely night.
ONCE ye were happy, once by many a shore,Wherever Glooscap's gentle feet might stray,Lulled by his presence like a dream, ye layFloating at rest; but that was long of yore.He was too good for earthly men; he boreTheir bitter deeds for many a patient day,And then at last he took his unseen way.He was your friend, and ye might rest no more.
ONCE ye were happy, once by many a shore,
Wherever Glooscap's gentle feet might stray,
Lulled by his presence like a dream, ye lay
Floating at rest; but that was long of yore.
He was too good for earthly men; he bore
Their bitter deeds for many a patient day,
And then at last he took his unseen way.
He was your friend, and ye might rest no more.
And now, though many hundred altering yearsHave passed, among the desolate northern meresStill must ye search and wander querulously,Crying for Glooscap, still bemoan the lightWith weird entreaties, and in agonyWith awful laughter pierce the lonely night.
And now, though many hundred altering years
Have passed, among the desolate northern meres
Still must ye search and wander querulously,
Crying for Glooscap, still bemoan the light
With weird entreaties, and in agony
With awful laughter pierce the lonely night.