170
'A sail ? a sail ?' the questioning word
In doubtful murmurs first is heard.
'A sail ! a sail !' the shout breaks loud
And full from the rejoicing crowd.
Aye, there it shines ! a point of light,
And now a little silvery thing,
As tiny as the sea-mew's wing
When seen afar in distant flight ;
Now with a fuller pinion spread,
Higher it lifts its sun-lit head ;
Onward the swelling cloud comes fast,
Filled with the freshening western blast.
Now mast and model fairly show,
Now the familiar flag they know.
Wolfe trembles. At his failing side
The pastor stands, and strives to hide
His own strong passion ; words of cheer
He speaks ; the old man doth not hear.
But ever nigher and more nigh
The bounding bark comes dancing on ;
