Paroles

Morning and whispering breeze,
….The eastern skies aglow;
June’s tears shed softly o’er the dark green leaves,
….Then would I go.
Not in the star-gemmed night
….Would I await the tide;
But in the Sabbath hush of dawning light,
….Cross to the other side
Though eager to set sail,
….When strikes the morning bell,
Ere the white canvas catch the fav’ring gale,
….Fain would I say farewell,
Not with the clasp of hands—
….Not with a rain of tears—
As though I voyaged far to unknown lands,
….Beyond a sea of fears;
But as my frail bark cleaves
….A pathway through the foam,
As her white canvas fills before the breeze,
….Wish me “bon voyage” home.

(Naomi McDonald Phelps)