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Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I;
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I.
Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud, black and swift, across the sky;
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white lighthouses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
As fast we flit along the beach,
One little sandpiper and I.
I watch him as he skims along.
Uttering his sweet and mournful cry:
He starts not at my fitful song,
Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong,
He scans me with a fearless eye;
Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,
The little sandpiper and I.
Comrade, where wilt thou be tonight
When the loosed storm breaks furiously?
My driftwood fire will burn so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
I do not fear for thee, though wroth
The tempest rushes through the sky;
For are we not God’s children both,
Thou, little sandpiper, and I?
( Celia Thaxter )
Celia Thaxter (1835-1894), whose father was a lighthouse keeper on White Island, one of the rocky “Isles of Shoals,” off the coast of New Hampshire, had the ocean for a companion in her early years.
She studied the sunrises and the sunsets, the wild flowers, the birds, the rocks,and all sea life. This selection shows how intimate was her friend-ship with the bird life of the coast.
bleached : whitened by the sun
rave : blow furiously
close-reefed : boats or vessels with their sails folded tightly
stanch : true
fitfu : starting and stopping suddenly
scan : examine, look at
Answer the following questions.
1) How do we know the poet and the sandpiper were friends?
2) What did the poet and the bird have in common?
3) What do we learn about the sandpiper’s habits?
4) Which lines express confidence in God’s care for his childre?
5) What do the sandpiper and the author have in common?