At Granite Bay, such beauty lies,
In rocks, in waters and in skies,
As poets dream of Paradise.
The rocks that clasp fair Granite Bay
First saw her charms at break of day
And flushed to pink from somber gray.
To guard this bay from rude alarms
And shelter her from all that harms
Great trees reach out protecting arms.
Down to the very water's edge,
Between the granite rocks they wedge,
And watch in silence from each ledge.
Defending points and islands stand
And reefs of rocks run out from land,
To keep rude billows well in hand.
The river and the bay are friends;
One slender arm the river bends
And all her anchored boats defends.
So much one island loves her grace,
He fronts all dangers in his place,
To shield the beauty of her face.
Loved by the forest and the shore,
While sun and moon, and skies adore,
The strong rocks hold her evermore.
At Granite Bay the wild winds rest;
The sunlight is her welcome guest;
The moon goes mad upon her breast.
Not here is heard the sea gulls' scream.
They come, but only come to dream:
Far out at sea their sorrows seem.
At Granite Bay, far out at sea
My cares and troubles seem to me;
Love, joy and hope remain, these three.
Though forth my wandering footsteps stray,
To realms and regions far away,
My heart dwells here, in Granite Bay.
The worlds and I. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox. p. 161-162.
New York : George H. Doran Company, c1918.
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