On this green bank; and when his iron arms
Dash'd the bark'd monsters, as frail stems of rice,
A little space apart, the soft, slow tide
But reach'd his chest, and in a flash he saw
Kate's yellow hair, and by it drew her up,
And lifting her aloft, cried out, "O, Kate!"
And once again said, "Katie! is she dead?"
For like the lilies broken by the rough
And sudden riot of the armor'd logs,
Kate lay upon his hands; and now the logs
Clos'd in upon him, nipping his great chest,
Nor could he move to push them off again
For Katie in his arms. "And now," he said,
"If none should come, and any wind arise
"To weld these woody monsters 'gainst the isle,
"I shall be crack'd like any broken twig;
"And as it is, I know not if I die,
"For I am hurt--aye, sorely, sorely hurt!"
Then look'd on Katie's lily face, and said,
"Dead, dead or living? Why, an even chance.
"O lovely bubble on a troubl'd sea,
"I would not thou shoulds't lose thyself again
"In the black ocean whence thy life emerg'd,
"But skyward steal on gales as soft as love,
"And hang in some bright rainbow overhead,
"If only such bright rainbow spann'd the earth."
Then shouted loudly, till the silent air
Rous'd like a frighten'd bird, and on its wings
Caught up his cry and bore it to the farm.
There Malcolm, leaping from his noontide sleep,