Memories of Morien

Memories of Morien

Frances Matheson

Evening-memory whispers softly,

Lures me swiftly far away,

And I see the lights and shadows

Dance on Morien’s silvery bay;

Where the long breakwater reaches

Out into the shining sea;

Where the salt breeze blowing gently,

As a mother crooned to me


There, this same old moon is rising,

From the distant fir-crowned shore,

Whitening all the gleaming wavelets,

Changing, sparkling, o’er and o’er;

Worldly cares are all forgotten;

Sorrow flies and hides away;

Once again, O, dream enchanted!

I am back, at Morien Bay.


Lovers walk the sea-washed boarding,

Lingering in the sweet moon-kissed spray,

and a “motor-boat” is purring

Somewhere, out upon the Bay.


Bay of Moods!  Uncertain, fickle

When the storm-king’s hosts draw nigh,

Then comes war of wind and waters,

Foaming billows tossing high;

Seas that roll in made defiance

Thundering, screaming, on the shore,

Like some wraith of memory crying

Nevermore! O, Nevermore!


But tonight as I sit musing,

There, I know the moonlight glows,

Giving to that glittering surface,

All the rich tints of a rose;

And the fishing-boats in harbor

Drowsy as their moorings lie,

While the night-wind, low and fitful

Breathing deep sea breaths, goes by.

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