Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 4 — The Watcher

THE WATCHER

Young was the dream that held her when The world was moon-white with the May: She watched the singing fishermen Sail out to sea at break of day: Soft, as the morning heavens then, The eyes that watched him sail away.

Old was her grief when summer filled The world with warm maturity: Far off she watched the nets that spilled Their twinkling foison by the sea: Where on the rocks she sat and stilled With song his infant on her knee.

Who to her love would make them lies-- Those vows his sea-slain manhood swore?

Beneath the raining autumn skies The fishing vessels put to shore: She watches with remembering eyes For the brown face that comes no more.