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We sail toward evening’s lonely star
That trembles in the tender blue;
One single cloud, a dusky bar,
Burnt with dull carmine through and through,
Slow smouldering in the summer sky,
Lies low along the fading west.
How sweet to watch its splendors die,
Wave-cradled thus and wind-caressed!
The soft breeze freshens, leaps the spray
To kiss our cheeks, with sudden cheer;
Upon the dark edge of the bay
Lighthouses kindle, far and near,
And through the warm deeps of the sky
Steal faint star-clusters, while we rest
In deep refreshment, thou and I,
Wave-cradled thus and wind-caressed.
How like a dream are earth and heaven,
Star-beam and darkness, sky and sea;
Thy face, pale in the shadowy even,
Thy quiet eyes that gaze on me!
O realize the moment’s charm,
Thou dearest! we are at life’s best,
Folded in God’s encircling arm,
Wave-cradled thus and wind-caressed.
This poem is in the public domain.
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Celia Laighton Thaxter (1835 - 1894) was born in New Hampshire, but spent most of her life on islands off the coast of that state, where her father was a lighthouse keeper. Married at 16 and mother of three sons, Celia became a popular American writer in the late 19th century, widely published and active in a circle of prominent authors, artists, and musicians. Her work focused largely on the ocean, island landscapes, and nature in general.
 
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