We saw the mists of evening
Come riding and rolling by :
The lights in the lighthouse window
Brighter and brighter grew,
And on the dim horizon
A ship still hung in view.
We spake of storm and shipwreck,
Of the seaman’s anxious life ;
How he floats ‘twixt sky and water,
‘Twixt joy and sorrow’s strife :
We spoke of coasts far distant,
We spoke of south and north,
Strange men, and stranger customs,
That those wild lands send forth :
Of the giant trees of Ganges,
Whose balm perfumes the breeze ;
And the fair and slender creatures,
That kneel by the lotus-trees :
Of the flat-skulled, wide-mouthed, Laplanders,
So dirty and so small ;
Who bake their fish on the embers,
And cower, and shake, and squall.
The maidens listened earnestly,
At last the tales were ended ;
The ship was gone, the dusky night
Had on our talk descended.