let evening come
'Twas such a little -- little boat
That toddled down the bay!
'Twas such a gallant -- gallant sea
That beckoned it away!
'Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast --
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!
© 2008 Emily Dickinson
Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?
So Sailors say -- on yester- day --
Just as the dusk was brown
One little boat gave up its strife
And gurgled down and down.
So angels say -- on yesterday --
Just as the dawn was red
One little boat -- o'erspent with gales --
Retrimmed its masts -- redecked its sails --
And shot -- exultant on!
© 2008 Emily Dickinson
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
© 2008 Jane Kenyon
That toddled down the bay!
'Twas such a gallant -- gallant sea
That beckoned it away!
'Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast --
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!
© 2008 Emily Dickinson
Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?
So Sailors say -- on yester- day --
Just as the dusk was brown
One little boat gave up its strife
And gurgled down and down.
So angels say -- on yesterday --
Just as the dawn was red
One little boat -- o'erspent with gales --
Retrimmed its masts -- redecked its sails --
And shot -- exultant on!
© 2008 Emily Dickinson
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
© 2008 Jane Kenyon
Labels: arthur wesley dow, claude monet, emily dickinson, henri riviere, hiroshige ando, jane kenyon, john platt, kawase hasui, leo kainrald, poetry
7 Comments:
Very beautiful. You found so many 'little boat' pictures! And the verse...the way they progress feels like evening coming down.
I really like this.
Oh, and btw, I tagged you. It will be interesting. Details here.
i dodn't know the jane kenyon poen but when i read it it blew me away and yes--i thought they really fit well!
(and i'm just not a tag kinda person, i guess)
i really love these,so serene!
i'm glad, hqp--and thank you for your comment
Lovely, the 'Riviere + Boats' piece has an almost abstract quality to it . I love the sail and it's reflection.
thank you dominic. riviere gets even more abstract at times. i am continually surprised by some of his images, even if i've seen them before.
he's been mentioned here frequently.
Cool. Just one of those things. You done done it anyway. Heh! Heh!
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hi, and thanks so much for stopping by. i spend all too much time thinking my own thoughts about this stuff, so please tell me yours. i thrive on the exchange!
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