An Indian Love Song
By Bertrand N.O. Walker
Light o' the lodge, how I love thee,
Light o' the lodge, how I love thee,
Mianza, my wild-wood fawn!
To wait and to watch for thy passing.
On hill-top I linger at dawn.
Glimmer of morn, how I love thee,
Glimmer of morn, how I love thee!
My flute to the ground now I fling,
As you tread the steep trail to the spring,
For thy coming has silenced my song.
Shimmer of moon on the river,
Sheen of soft star on the lake!
Moonlight and starlight are naught;
Their gleam and their glow is ne'er fraught
With such love-light as falls from thine eyes.
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Thursday was quite cold for April, but, contrary to the forecast, not rainy. I did not have a very eventful day apart from things that are mostly too boring to discuss, but I took a walk in the morning to enjoy the magnolias, and we both took a walk in the afternoon to see the daffodils before they disappear. I have spent lots of time over the past two days reinstalling old drivers to make the camera on my little Asus laptop work after the last update, which has been a huge pain, but I can finally use Skype and Zoom on it again.
We got a food delivery from Giant and pizza delivery for dinner at around the same time, so dinner was a little chaotic, and I chatted with what used to be my Sunday group in the evening because Thursdays work better for people now. We were going to watch baseball, but the Nationals opening day game was postponed because of coronavirus cases on the team and the Orioles game was postponed because of weather, so we watched a rerun of the World Figure Skating Championships. Rockville Civic Center last weekend:
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