John La Farge

Scraping across the beach the boats were launched,And as they touched the waves, they seemed to takeNew shape and dignity with that caressOf little lapping ripples round the prow.Uhila led the fleet as one who knewHis right by reason of his age and skill.The little isle seemed now a sleeping maidKirtled in green, the beach her snowy breastVeined with the purple brooks that sought the sea.Uhila watched... more...