diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/11558.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11558.txt | 3778 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 3778 deletions
diff --git a/old/11558.txt b/old/11558.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0cdfc62..0000000 --- a/old/11558.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3778 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Sam G. Goodrich - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Poems - -Author: Sam G. Goodrich - -Release Date: March 13, 2004 [EBook #11558] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced from page scans -provided by Internet Archive Children's Library and University of -Florida. - - - - - - - - -POEMS - -BY S.G. GOODRICH - -NEW-YORK: - -G.P. PUTNAM, 155 BROADWAY - -1851. - -[Illustration: Frontispiece] - - And 'mid the awful stillness - Of their grave, - The forest oaks have flourished-- - And the breath - Of years hath swept their races, - Wave on wave, - As ages fainted - On the shores of death. - The tumbling cliff perchance - Hath thundered deep, - Like a rough note - Of music in the song - Of centuries, and the whirlwind's - Crushing sweep, - Hath ploughed the forest - With its furrows strong. - - -[Illustration: Vignette] - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - -ILLUSTRATIONS. DRAWN BY ENGRAVED BY - -1. Frontispiece Billings Lossing & Barrett -2. Vignette Croome Anderson -3. Vignette Billings Hartwell -4. The Departure of the Fairies Billings Bobbett & Edmonds -5. Voyage of the Fairies Billings Bobbett & Edmonds -6. The Fairies' Search Billings Hartwell -7. The Fairy Dance Billings Lossing & Barrett -8. Indians' discovery of the Humming Birds Billings Lossing & Barrett -9. Lake Superior Billings Hartwell -10. The Leaf Billings Marsh -11. The Bubble Chase Billings Hartwell -12. Dream of Life Harvey Hartwell -13. The Surf Sprite Billings Brown -14. Vignette Billings Brown -15. The First Frost of Autumn Billings Nichols -16. The Sea Bird Billings Brown -17. Vignette Billings Brown -18. The King of Terrors Billings Marsh -19. The Rainbow Bridge Billings Bobbett & Edmonds -20. The Rival Bubbles Billings Marsh -21. The Mississippi Billings Bobbett & Edmonds -22. Banks of the Mississippi Billings Lossing & Barrett -23. The Indian Lovers Chapman Adams -24. Vignette Billings Lossing & Barrett -25. The Two Windmills Billings Hartwell -26. The Gipsy's Prayer Billings Hartwell -27. The Robin Chapman Adams -28. Burial at Sea Billings Richardson -29. The Dream of Youth Billings Hartwell -30. The Old Oak Billings Brown -31. To a Wild Violet in March Croome Anderson -32. The Rose Cheney Fairchild -33. The Maniac Billings Brown -34. The Two Shades Billings Marsh -35. The Outcast Billings Hartwell -36. "My Native Hills," &c. Billings Andrews -37. The Moonlit Prairie Billings Andrews -38. The Farewell Billings Andrews -39. The Expulsion from Eden Billings Marsh -40. Vignette Croome Anderson - -Henry J. Crate, Pressman. - - -[Illustration: Vignette] - -CONTENTS. - -Birth-night of the Humming Birds -Lake Superior -The Leaf -The Bubble Chase -A Dream of Life -The Surf Sprite -The First Frost of Autumn -The Sea Bird -The King of Terrors -The Rainbow Bridge -The Rival Bubbles -Good Night -The Mississippi -The Two Windmills -The Ideal and the Actual -The Golden Dream -The Gipsy's Prayer -Inscription for a Rural Cemetery -Song: the Robin -Thoughts at Sea -A Burial at Sea -The Dream of Youth -Remembrance -The Old Oak -To a Wild Violet in March -Illusions -The Rose: to Ellen -The Maniac -The Two Shades -The Teacher's Lesson -Perennials -To a Lady who had been Singing -The Broken Heart -The Star of the West -The Outcast -Good and Evil -The Mountain Stream - - - - -Birth-night of the Humming Birds. - - -[Illustration: The Departure of the Fairies] - - -I. - - I'll tell you a Fairy Tale that's new: - How the merry Elves o'er the ocean flew - From the Emerald isle to this far-off shore, - As they were wont in the days of yore; - And played their pranks one moonlit night, - Where the zephyrs alone could see the sight. - - -II. - - Ere the Old world yet had found the New, - The fairies oft in their frolics flew - To the fragrant isles of the Caribbee-- - Bright bosom-gems of a golden sea. - Too dark was the film of the Indian's eye, - These gossamer sprites to suspect or spy,-- - So they danced 'mid the spicy groves unseen, - And mad were their merry pranks, I ween; - For the fairies, like other discreet little elves, - Are freest and fondest when all by themselves. - No thought had they that in after time, - The Muse would echo their deeds in rhyme; - So gayly doffing light stocking and shoe, - They tripped o'er the meadow all dappled in dew. - - -III. - - I could tell, if I would, some right merry tales, - Of unslippered fairies that danced in the vales-- - But the lovers of scandal I leave in the lurch-- - And, beside, these elves don't belong to the church. - If they danced--be it known--'twas not in the clime - Of your Mathers and Hookers, where laughter was crime; - Where sentinel virtue kept guard o'er the lip, - Though witchcraft stole into the heart by a slip! - Oh no! 'twas the land of the fruit and the flower-- - Where Summer and Spring both dwelt in one bower-- - Where one hung the citron, all ripe from the bough, - And the other with blossoms encircled her brow; - Where the mountains embosomed rich tissues of gold, - And the rivers o'er rubies and emeralds rolled. - It was there, where the seasons came only to bless, - And the fashions of Eden still lingered, in dress, - That these gay little fairies were wont, as I say, - To steal in their merriest gambols away. - But dropping the curtain o'er frolic and fun, - Too good to be told, or too bad to be done, - I give you a legend from Fancy's own sketch, - Though I warn you he's given to fibbing--the wretch! - Yet I learn by the legends of breezes and brooks, - 'Tis as true as the fairy tales told in the books. - - -IV. - - One night, when the moon shone fair on the main, - Choice spirits were gathered from meadow and plain-- - And lightly embarking from Erin's bold cliffs, - They slid o'er the wave in their moonbeam skiffs. - A ray for a rudder--a thought for a sail-- - Swift, swift was each bark as the wing of the gale. - -[Illustration: Voyage of the Fairies] - - Yet long were the tale, - Should I linger to say - What gambol and frolic - Enlivened the way; - How they flirted with bubbles - That danced on the wave, - Or listened to mermaids - That sang from the cave; - Or slid with the moonbeams - Down deep to the grove - Of coral, where mullet - And goldfish rove: - How there, in long vistas - Of silence and sleep, - They waltzed, as if mocking - The death of the deep: - How, oft, where the wreck - Lay scattered and torn, - They peeped in the skull, - All ghastly and lorn; - Or deep, 'mid wild rocks, - Quizzed the goggling shark, - And mouthed at the sea-wolf, - So solemn and stark; - Each seeming to think - That the earth and the sea - Were made but for fairies, - For gambol and glee! - - -V. - - Enough, that at last they came to the Isle, - Where moonlight and fragrance were rivals the while. - Not yet had those vessels from Palos been here, - To turn the bright gem to the blood-mingled tear. - Oh no! still blissful and peaceful the land, - And the merry elves flew from the sea to the strand. - Right happy and joyous seemed now the fond crew, - As they tripped 'mid the orange groves flashing in dew, - For they were to hold a revel that night, - A gay fancy ball, and each to be dight - In the gem or the flower that fancy might choose, - From mountain or vale, for its fragrance or hues. - - -VI. - - Away sped the maskers like arrows of light - To gather their gear for the revel bright. - To the dazzling peaks of far-off Peru, - In emulous speed some sportively flew, - And deep in the mine, or 'mid glaciers on high, - For ruby and sapphire searched heedful and sly. - For diamonds rare that gleam in the bed - Of Brazilian streams, some merrily sped, - While others for topaz and emerald stray, - 'Mid the cradle cliffs of the Paraguay. - -[Illustration: The Fairies' Search] - - -VII. - - As these are gathering the rarest of gems, - Others are plucking the rarest of stems. - They range wild dells where the zephyr alone, - To the blushing blossoms before was known; - Through forests they fly, whose branches are hung - By creeping plants, with fair flowerets strung, - Where temples of nature with arches of bloom, - Are lit by the moonlight, and faint with perfume. - They stray where the mangrove and clematis twine, - Where azalia and laurel in rivalry shine; - Where, tall as the oak, the passion-tree glows, - And jasmine is blent with rhodora and rose. - O'er blooming savannas and meadows of light, - 'Mid regions of summer they sweep in their flight, - And gathering the fairest, they speed to their bower, - Each one with his favorite brilliant or flower. - - -VIII. - - The hour is come, and the fairies are seen - In their plunder arrayed on the moonlit green. - The music is breathed--'tis a soft strain of pleasure, - And the light giddy throng whirl into the measure. - -[Illustration: The Fairy Dance] - - 'Twas a joyous dance, and the dresses were bright, - Such as never were known till that famous night; - For the gems and the flowers that shone in the scene, - O'ermatched the regalia of princess and queen. - No gaudy slave to a fair one's brow - Was the rose, or the ruby, or emerald now, - But lighted with souls by the playful elves, - The brilliants and blossoms seemed dancing themselves. - - -IX. - - Of all that did chance, 'twere a long tale to tell, - Of the dresses and waltzes, and who was the belle; - But each was so happy, and all were so fair, - That night stole away and the dawn caught them there! - Such a scampering never before was seen, - As the fairies' flight on that island green. - They rushed to the bay with twinkling feet, - But vain was their haste, for the moonlight fleet - Had passed with the dawn, and never again - Were those fairies permitted to traverse the main. - But 'mid the groves, when the sun was high, - The Indian marked with a worshipping eye, - The HUMMING BIRDS, all unknown before, - Glancing like thoughts from flower to flower, - And seeming as if earth's loveliest things, - The brilliants and blossoms, had taken wings: - And Fancy hath whispered in numbers light, - That these are the fairies who danced that night, - And linger yet in the garb they wore, - Content in our clime and more blest than before! - -[Illustration: Indians' discovery of the Humming Birds] - - - - -Lake Superior. - - -[Illustration: Lake Superior] - - Father of Lakes! thy waters bend, - Beyond the eagle's utmost view, - When, throned in heaven, he sees thee send - Back to the sky its world of blue. - - Boundless and deep the forests weave - Their twilight shade thy borders o'er, - And threatening cliffs, like giants, heave - Their rugged forms along thy shore. - - Nor can the light canoes, that glide - Across thy breast like things of air, - Chase from thy lone and level tide, - The spell of stillness deepening there. - - Yet round this waste of wood and wave, - Unheard, unseen, a spirit lives, - That, breathing o'er each rock and cave, - To all, a wild, strange aspect gives. - - The thunder-riven oak, that flings - Its grisly arms athwart the sky, - A sudden, startling image brings - To the lone traveller's kindled eye. - - The gnarled and braided boughs that show - Their dim forms in the forest shade, - Like wrestling serpents seem, and throw - Fantastic horrors through the glade. - - The very echoes round this shore, - Have caught a strange and gibbering tone, - For they have told the war-whoop o'er, - Till the wild chorus is their own. - - Wave of the wilderness, adieu-- - Adieu, ye rocks, ye wilds, ye woods! - Roll on, thou Element of blue, - And fill these awful solitudes! - - Thou hast no tale to tell of man. - God is thy theme. Ye sounding caves, - Whisper of Him, whose mighty plan, - Deems as a bubble all your waves! - - - - -The Leaf. - - -[Illustration: The Leaf] - - It came with spring's soft sun and showers, - Mid bursting buds and blushing flowers; - It flourished on the same light stem, - It drank the same clear dews with them. - The crimson tints of summer morn - That gilded one, did each adorn: - The breeze that whispered light and brief - To bud or blossom, kissed the leaf; - When o'er the leaf the tempest flew, - The bud and blossom trembled too. - - But its companions passed away, - And left the leaf to lone decay. - The gentle gales of spring went by: - The fruits and flowers of summer die. - The autumn winds swept o'er the hill, - And winter's breath came cold and chill. - The leaf now yielded to the blast, - And on the rushing stream was cast. - Far, far it glided to the sea, - And whirled and eddied wearily, - Till suddenly it sank to rest, - And slumbered in the ocean's breast. - - Thus life begins--its morning hours, - Bright as the birthday of the flowers-- - Thus passes like the leaves away, - As withered and as lost as they. - Beneath the parent roof we meet - In joyous groups, and gayly greet - The golden beams of love and light, - That dawn upon the youthful sight. - But soon we part, and one by one, - Like leaves and flowers, the group is gone. - One gentle spirit seeks the tomb, - His brow yet fresh with childhood's bloom: - Another treads the paths of fame, - And barters peace to win a name. - Another still, tempts fortune's wave, - And seeking wealth, secures a grave. - The last, grasps yet the brittle thread: - Though friends are gone and joy is dead-- - Still dares the dark and fretful tide, - And clutches at its power and pride-- - Till suddenly the waters sever, - And like the leaf, he sinks for ever! - - - - -The Bubble Chase. - - -[Illustration: The Bubble Chase] - - Twas morn, and, wending on its way, - Beside my path a stream was playing; - And down its banks, in humor gay, - A thoughtless boy was idly straying. - - Light as the breeze they onward flew-- - That joyous youth and laughing tide, - And seemed each other's course to woo, - For long they bounded side by side. - - And now the dimpling water staid, - And glassed its ripples in a nook; - And on its breast a bubble played, - Which won the boy's admiring look. - - He bent him o'er the river's brim, - And on the radiant vision gazed; - For lovelier still it seemed to him, - That in its breast his imaged blazed. - - With beating heart and trembling finger, - He stooped the wondrous gem to clasp, - But, spellbound, seemed a while to linger, - Ere yet he made th' adventurous grasp. - - And still a while the glittering toy, - Coquettish, seemed to shun the snare, - And then more eager grew the boy, - And followed with impetuous air. - - Round and around, with heedful eyes, - He chased it o'er the wavy river: - He marked his time and seized his prize, - But in his hand it burst for ever! - - Upon the river's marge he sate, - The tears adown his young cheek gushing; - And long,--his heart disconsolate-- - He heeded not the river's rushing. - - But tears will cease. And now the boy - Once more looked forth upon the stream: - 'Twas morning still, and lo! a toy, - Bright as the last one, in the beam! - - He rose--pursued--the bubble caught; - It burst--he sighed--then others chased; - And as I parted, still he sought - New bubbles in their downward haste. - - My onward path I still pursued, - Till the high noontide sun was o'er me. - And now, though changed in form and mood, - That Youth and river seemed before me. - - The deepened stream more proudly swept, - Though chafed by many a vessel's prow; - The Youth in manhood's vigor stept, - But care was chiselled on his brow. - - Still on the stream he kept his eye, - And wooed the bubbles to the shore, - And snatched them, as they circled by, - Though bursting as they burst before. - - Once more we parted. Yet again - We met--though now 'twas evening dim: - Onward the waters rushed amain, - And vanished o'er a cataract's brim. - - Though swift and dark the raging surge, - The Bubble-Chaser still was there; - And, bending o'er the dizzy verge, - Clutched at the gaudy things of air. - - With staff in hand and tottering knee, - Upon the slippery brink he stood, - And watched, with doting ecstasy, - Each wreath of foam that rode the flood. - - "One bubble more!" I heard him call, - And saw his trembling fingers play: - He snatched, and down the roaring fall, - With the lost bubble, passed away! - - - - -A Dream of Life. - - -[Illustration: Dream of Life] - - When I was young--long, long ago-- - I dreamed myself among the flowers; - And fancy drew the picture so, - They seemed like Fairies in their bowers. - - The rose was still a rose, you know-- - But yet a maid. What could I do? - You surely would not have me go, - When rosy maidens seem to woo? - - My heart was gay, and 'mid the throng - I sported for an hour or two; - We danced the flowery paths along, - And did as youthful lovers do. - - But sports must cease, and so I dreamed - To part with these, my fairy flowers-- - But oh, how very hard it seemed - To say good-by 'mid such sweet bowers! - - And one fair Maid of modest air - Gazed on me with her eye of blue; - I saw the tear-drop gathering there-- - How could I say to her, Adieu! - - I fondly gave my hand and heart, - And we were wed. Bright hour of youth! - How little did I think to part - With my sweet bride, whose name was Truth! - - But time passed on, and Truth grew gray, - And chided, though with gentlest art: - I loved her, though I went astray, - And almost broke her faithful heart. - - And then I left her, and in tears-- - These could not move my hardened breast! - I wandered, and for weary years - I sought for bliss, but found no rest. - - I sought--yet ever sought in vain-- - To find the peace, the joy of youth: - At last, I turned me back again, - And found them with my faithful Truth. - - - - -The Surf Sprite. - - -[Illustration: The Surf Sprite] - -I. - - In the far off sea there is many a sprite, - Who rests by day, but awakes at night. - In hidden caves where monsters creep, - When the sun is high, these spectres sleep: - From the glance of noon, they shrink with dread, - And hide 'mid the bones of the ghastly dead. - Where the surf is hushed, and the light is dull, - In the hollow tube and the whitened skull, - They crouch in fear or in whispers wail, - For the lingering night, and the coming gale. - But at even-tide, when the shore is dim, - And bubbling wreaths with the billows swim, - They rise on the wing of the freshened breeze, - And flit with the wind o'er the rolling seas. - - -II. - - At summer eve, as I sat on the cliff, - I marked a shape like a dusky skiff, - That skimmed the brine, toward the rocky shore-- - I heard a voice in the surge's roar-- - I saw a form in the flashing spray, - And white arms beckoned me away. - Away o'er the tide we went together, - Through shade and mist and stormy weather-- - Away, away, o'er the lonely water, - On wings of thought like shadows we flew, - Nor paused 'mid scenes of wreck and slaughter, - That came from the blackened waves to view. - The staggering ship to the gale we left, - The drifting corse and the vacant boat; - The ghastly swimmer all hope bereft-- - We left them there on the sea to float! - Through mist and shade and stormy weather, - That night we went to the icy Pole, - And there on the rocks we stood together, - And saw the ocean before us roll. - No moon shone down on the hermit sea, - No cheering beacon illumed the shore, - No ship on the water, no light on the lea, - No sound in the ear but the billow's roar! - But the wave was bright, as if lit with pearls, - And fearful things on its bosom played; - Huge crakens circled in foamy whirls, - As if the deep for their sport was made, - And mighty whales through the crystal dashed, - And upward sent the far glittering spray, - Till the darkened sky with the radiance flashed, - And pictured in glory the wild array.[A] - - -III. - - Hast thou seen the deep in the moonlight beam, - Its wave like a maiden's bosom swelling? - Hast thou seen the stars in the water's gleam, - As if its depths were their holy dwelling? - We met more beautiful scenes that night, - As we slid along in our spirit-car, - For we crossed the South Sea, and, ere the light, - We doubled Cape Horn on a shooting star. - In our way we stooped o'er a moonlit isle, - Which the fairies had built in the lonely sea, - And the Surf Sprite's brow was bent with a smile, - As we gazed through the mist on their revelry. - The ripples that swept to the pebbly shore, - O'er shells of purple in wantonness played, - And the whispering zephyrs sweet odors bore, - From roses that bloomed amid silence and shade. - In winding grottos, with gems all bright, - Soft music trembled from harps unseen, - And fair forms glided on wings of light, - 'Mid forests of fragrance, and valleys of green. - There were voices of gladness the heart to beguile, - And glances of beauty too fond to be true-- - For the Surf Sprite shrieked, and the Fairy Isle, - By the breath of the tempest was swept from our view. - - -IV. - - Then the howling gale o'er the billows rushed, - And trampled the sea in its march of wrath; - From stooping clouds the red lightnings gushed, - And thunders moved in their blazing path. - 'Twas a fearful night, but my shadowy guide - Had a voice of glee as we rode on the gale, - For we saw afar a ship on the tide, - With a bounding course and a fearless sail. - In darkness it came, like a storm-sent bird, - But another ship it met on the wave: - A shock--a shout--but no more we heard, - For they both went down to their ocean-grave! - We paused on the misty wing of the storm, - As a ruddy flash lit the face of the deep, - And far in its bosom full many a form - Was swinging down to its silent sleep. - Another flash! and they seemed to rest, - In scattered groups, on the floor of the tide: - The lover and loved, they were breast to breast, - The mother and babe, they were side by side. - The leaping waves clapped their hands in joy, - And gleams of gold with the waters flowed, - But the peace of the sleepers knew no alloy, - For all was hushed in their lone abode! - - -V. - - On, on, like midnight visions, we passed, - The storm above, and the surge below, - And shrieking forms swept by on the blast, - Like demons speeding on errands of woe. - My spirit sank, for aloft in the cloud, - A Star-set Flag on the whirlwind flew, - And I knew that the billow must be the shroud - Of the noble ship and her gallant crew. - Her side was striped with a belt of white, - And a dozen guns from each battery frowned, - But the lightning came in a sheet of flame,[B] - And the towering sails in its folds were wound. - Vain, vain was the shout, that in battle rout, - Had rung as a knell in the ear of the foe, - For the bursting deck was heaved from the wreck, - And the sky was bathed in the awful glow! - The ocean shook to its oozy bed, - As the swelling sound to the canopy went, - And the splintered fires like meteors shed - Their light o'er the tossing element. - A moment they gleamed, then sank in the foam, - And darkness swept over the gorgeous glare-- - They lighted the mariners down to their home, - And left them all sleeping in stillness there! - - -VI. - - The storm is hushed, and my vision is o'er, - The Surf Sprite changed to a foamy wreath, - The night is deepened along the shore, - And I thread my way o'er the dusky heath. - But often again I shall go to that cliff, - And seek for her form on the flashing tide, - For I know she will come in her airy skiff, - And over the sea we shall swiftly ride! - -[Footnote A: The Laplanders are said to entertain the idea that the -coruscations of the Aurora Borealis, are occasioned by the sports of the -fishes in the polar seas.] - -[Footnote B: The loss of the United States Sloop-of-War Hornet, in the -Gulf of Mexico, 1829, suggested this passage. She was supposed to have -gone down in a hurricane, but as nothing is positively known on the -subject, it is not beyond lawful poetical license to imagine, at least in -a dream, that the powder magazine was set on fire by the lightning, and -the ship rent in pieces, by the explosion.] - -[Illustration: Vignette] - - - - -The First Frost of Autumn. - - -[Illustration: The First Frost of Autumn] - - - At evening it rose in the hollow glade, - Where wild-flowers blushed 'mid silence and shade; - Where, hid from the gaze of the garish noon, - They were slily wooed by the trembling moon. - It rose--for the guardian zephyrs had flown, - And left the valley that night alone. - No sigh was borne from the leafy hill, - No murmur came from the lapsing rill; - The boughs of the willow in silence wept, - And the aspen leaves in that sabbath slept. - The valley dreamed, and the fairy lute - Of the whispering reed by the brook was mute. - The slender rush o'er the glassy rill, - As a marble shaft, was erect and still, - And no airy sylph on the mirror wave, - A dimpling trace of its footstep gave. - The moon shone down, but the shadows deep - Of the pensile flowers, were hushed in sleep. - The pulse was still in that vale of bloom, - And the Spirit rose from its marshy tomb. - It rose o'er the breast of a silver spring, - Where the mist at morn shook its snowy wing, - And robed like the dew, when it woos the flowers. - It stole away to their secret bowers. - - With a lover's sigh, and a zephyr's breath, - It whispered bliss, but its work was death: - It kissed the lip of a rose asleep, - And left it there on its stem to weep: - It froze the drop on a lily's leaf, - And the shivering blossom was bowed in grief. - O'er the gentian it breathed, and the withered flower - Fell blackened and scathed in its lonely bower; - It stooped to the asters all blooming around, - And kissed the buds as they slept on the ground. - They slept, but no morrow could waken their bloom, - And shrouded by moonlight, they lay in their tomb. - - The Frost Spirit went, like the lover light, - In search of fresh beauty and bloom that night - Its wing was plumed by the moon's cold ray, - And noiseless it flew o'er the hills away. - It flew, yet its dallying fingers played, - With a thrilling touch, through the maple's shade; - It toyed with the leaves of the sturdy oak, - It sighed o'er the aspen, and whispering spoke - To the bending sumach, that stooped to throw - Its chequering shade o'er a brook below. - It kissed the leaves of the beech, and breathed - O'er the arching elm, with its ivy wreathed: - It climbed to the ash on the mountain's height-- - It flew to the meadow, and hovering light - O'er leafy forest and fragrant dell, - It bound them all in its silvery spell. - Each spreading bough heard the whispered bliss, - And gave its cheek to the gallant's kiss-- - Though giving, the leaves disdainingly shook, - As if refusing the boon they took. - - Who dreamed that the morning's light would speak, - And show that kiss on the blushing cheek? - For in silence the fairy work went through-- - And no croning owl of the scandal knew: - No watch-dog broke from his slumbers light, - To tell the tale to the listening night. - But that which in secret is darkly done, - Is oft displayed by the morrow's sun; - And thus the leaves in the light revealed, - With their glowing hues what the night concealed. - The sweet, frail flowers that once welcomed the morn, - Now drooped in their bowers, all shrivelled and lorn; - While the hardier trees shook their leaves in the blast-- - Though tell-tale colors were over them cast. - The maple blushed deep as a maiden's cheek, - And the oak confessed what it would not speak. - The beech stood mute, but a purple hue - O'er its glossy robe was a witness true. - The elm and the ivy with varying dyes, - Protesting their innocence, looked to the skies: - And the sumach rouged deeper, as stooping to look, - It glanced at the colors that flared in the brook. - The delicate aspen grew nervous and pale, - As the tittering forest seemed full of the tale; - And the lofty ash, though it tossed up its bough, - With a puritan air on the mountain's brow, - Bore a purple tinge o'er its leafy fold, - And the hidden revel was gayly told! - - - - -The Sea-Bird. - - -[Illustration: The Sea-Bird] - - Far, far o'er the deep is my island throne, - Where the sea-gull roams and reigns alone; - Where nought is seen but the beetling rock, - And nought is heard but the ocean-shock, - And the scream of birds when the storm is nigh, - And the crash of the wreck, and the fearful cry - Of drowning men, in their agony. - I love to sit, when the waters sleep, - And ponder the depths of the glassy deep, - Till I dream that I float on a corse at sea, - And sing of the feast that is made for me. - I love on the rush of the storm to sail, - And mingle my scream with the hoarser gale. - When the sky is dark, and the billow high, - When the tempest sweeps in its terror by, - I love to ride on the maddening blast-- - To flap my wing o'er the fated mast, - And sing to the crew a song of fear, - Of the reef and the surge that await them here. - - When the storm is done and the revel is o'er, - I love to sit on the rocky shore, - And tell to the ear of the dying breeze, - The tales that are hushed in the sullen seas; - Of the ship that sank in the reefy surge, - And left her fate to the sea-gull's dirge: - Of the lover that sailed to meet his bride, - And his story gave to the secret tide: - Of the father that went on the trustless main, - And never was met by his child again: - Of the hidden things which the waves conceal, - And the sea-bird's song can alone reveal. - - I tell of the ship that hath found a grave-- - Her spars still float on the restless wave, - But down in the halls of the voiceless deep, - The forms of the brave and the beautiful sleep. - I saw the storm as it gathered fast, - I heard the roar of the coming blast, - I marked the ship in her fearful strife, - As she flew on the tide, like a thing of life. - But the whirlwind came, and her masts were wrung, - Away, and away on the waters flung. - I sat on the gale o'er the sea-swept deck, - And screamed in delight o'er the coming wreck: - I flew to the reef with a heart of glee, - And wiled the ship to her destiny. - On the hidden rocks like a hawk she rushed, - And the sea through her riven timbers gushed: - O'er the whirling surge the wreck was flung, - And loud on the gale wild voices rung. - I gazed on the scene--I saw despair - On the pallid brows of a youthful pair. - The maiden drooped like a gentle flower, - When lashed by the gale in its quivering bower: - Her arms round her lover she wildly twined, - And gazed on the sea with a wildered mind. - He bent o'er the trembler, and sheltered her form, - From the plash of the sea, and the sweep of the storm; - But woe to the lover, and woe to the maid, - Whose hopes on the treacherous deep are laid! - For the Sea hath a King whose palaces shine, - In lustre and light down the pearly brine, - And he loves to gather in glory there, - The choicest things of the earth and air. - In his deep saloons with coral crowned, - Where gems are sparkling above and around, - He gathers his harem of love and grace, - And beauty he takes to his cold embrace. - The winds and the waves are his messengers true. - And lost is the wanderer whom they pursue. - They sweep the shore, they plunder the wreck, - His stores to heap, and his halls to deck. - Oh! lady and lover, ye are doomed their prey-- - They come! they come! ye are swept away! - Ye sink in the tide,--but it cannot sever - The fond ones who sleep in its depths for ever! - - Wild! wild was the storm, and loud was its roar, - And strange were the sights that I hovered o'er: - I saw the babe with its mother die; - I listened to catch its parting sigh; - And I laughed to see the black billows play - With the sleeping child in their gambols gay. - I saw a girl whose arms were white, - As the foam that flashed on the billows' height; - And the ripples played with her glossy curls, - And her cheek was kissed by the dancing whirls; - But her bosom was dead to hope and fear, - For she shuddered not as the shark came near. - I poised my foot on the forehead fair - Of a lovely boy that floated there; - I looked in the eyes of the drowning brave, - As they upward gazed through the glassy wave; - I screamed o'er the bubbles that told of death, - And stooped as the last gave up his breath. - I flapped my wing, for the work was done-- - The storm was hushed, and the laughing sun - Sent his gushing light o'er the sullen seas-- - And I tell my tale to the fainting breeze, - Of the hidden things which the waves conceal, - And the sea-bird's song can alone reveal! - -[Illustration: Vignette] - - - -The King of Terrors. - - -[Illustration: The King of Terrors] - - -I. - - As a shadow He flew, but sorrow and wail - Came up from his path, like the moan of the gale. - His quiver was full, though his arrows fell fast - As the sharp hail of winter when urged by the blast. - He smiled on each shaft as it flew from the string, - Though feathered by fate, and the lightning its wing. - Unerring, unsparing, it sped to its mark, - As the mandate of destiny, certain and dark. - The mail of the warrior it severed in twain,-- - The wall of the castle it shivered amain: - No shield could shelter, no prayer could save, - And Love's holy shrine no immunity gave. - A babe in the cradle--its mother bent o'er,-- - The arrow is sped,--and that babe is no more! - At the faith-plighting altar, a lovely one bows,-- - The gem on her finger,--in Heaven her vows; - Unseen is the blow, but she sinks in the crowd, - And her bright wedding-garment is turned to a shroud! - - -II. - - On flew the Destroyer, o'er mountain and main,-- - And where there was life, there, there are the slain! - No valley so deep, no islet so lone, - But his shadow is cast, and his victims are known. - He paused not, though years rolled weary and slow, - And Time's hoary pinion drooped languid and low: - He paused not till Man from his birth-place was swept, - And the sea and the land in solitude slept. - - -III. - - On a mountain he stood, for the struggle was done,-- - A smile on his lip for the victory won. - The city of millions,--lone islet and cave, - The home of the hermit,--all earth was a grave! - The last of his race, where the first saw the light, - The monarch had met, and triumphed in fight: - Swift, swift was the steed, o'er Shinar's wide sand, - But swifter the arrow that flew from Death's hand! - - -IV. - - O'er the mountain he seems like a tempest to lower, - Triumphant and dark in the fulness of power; - And flashes of flame, that play round his crest, - Bespeak the fierce lightning that glows in his breast. - But a vision of wonder breaks now on his sight; - The blue vault of heaven is gushing with light, - And, facing the tyrant, a form from the sky - Returns the fierce glance of his challenging eye. - A moment they pause,--two princes of might,-- - The Demon of Darkness,--an Angel of Light! - Each gazes on each,--no barrier between-- - And the quivering rocks shrink aghast from the scene! - The sword of the angel waves free in the air; - Death looks to his quiver,--no arrow is there! - He falls like a pyramid, crumbled and torn; - And a vision of light on his dying eye borne, - In glory reveals the blest souls of the slain,-- - And he sees that his sceptre was transient and vain; - For, 'mid the bright throng, e'en the infant he slew, - And the altar-struck bride, beam full on the view! - - - - -The Rainbow Bridge. - - -[Illustration: The Rainbow Bridge] - - - Love and Hope and Youth, together-- - Travelling once in stormy weather, - Met a deep and gloomy tide, - Flowing swift and dark and wide. - 'Twas named the river of Despair,-- - And many a wreck was floating there! - The urchins paused, with faces grave, - Debating how to cross the wave, - When lo! the curtain of the storm - Was severed, and the rainbow's form - Stood against the parting cloud-- - Emblem of peace on trouble's shroud! - Hope pointed to the signal flying, - And the three, their shoulders plying, - O'er the stream the light arch threw-- - A rainbow bridge of loveliest hue! - Now, laughing as they tripped it o'er, - They gayly sought the other shore: - But soon the hills began to frown, - And the bright sun went darkly down. - Though their step was light and fleet, - The rainbow vanished 'neath their feet,-- - And down they went,--the giddy things! - But Hope put forth his ready wings,-- - And clinging Love and Youth he bore - In triumph to the other shore. - But ne'er I ween should mortals deem - On rainbow bridge to cross a stream, - Unless bright, buoyant Hope is nigh, - And, light with Love and Youth, they fly! - - - - -The Rival Bubbles. - - -[Illustration: The Rival Bubbles] - - - Two bubbles on a mountain stream, - Began their race one shining morn, - And lighted by the ruddy beam, - Went dancing down 'mid shrub and thorn. - - The stream was narrow, wild and lone, - But gayly dashed o'er mound and rock, - And brighter still the bubbles shone, - As if they loved the whirling shock. - - Each leaf, and flower, and sunny ray, - Was pictured on them as they flew, - And o'er their bosoms seemed to play - In lovelier forms and colors new. - - Thus on they went, and side by side, - They kept in sad and sunny weather, - And rough or smooth the flowing tide, - They brightest shone when close together. - - Nor did they deem that they could sever, - That clouds could rise, or morning wane; - They loved, and thought that love for ever - Would bind them in its gentle chain. - - But soon the mountain slope was o'er, - And 'mid new scenes the waters flowed, - And the two bubbles now no more - With their first morning beauty glowed. - - They parted, and the sunny ray - That from each other's love they borrowed; - That made their dancing bosoms gay, - While other bubbles round them sorrowed: - - That ray was dimmed, and on the wind - A shadow came, as if from Heaven; - Yet on they flew, and sought to find - From strife, the bliss that love had given. - - They parted, yet in sight they kept, - And rivals now the friends became, - And if, perchance, the eddies swept - Them close, they flashed with flame. - - And fiercer forward seemed to bound, - With the swift ripples toward the main; - And all the lesser bubbles round, - Each sought to gather in its train. - - They strove, and in that eager strife - Their morning friendship was forgot, - And all the joys that sweeten life, - The rival bubbles knew them not. - - The leaves, the flowers, the grassy shore, - Were all neglected in the chase, - And on their bosoms now no more - These forms of beauty found a place. - - But all was dim and drear within, - And envy dwelt where love was known, - And images of fear and sin - Were traced, where truth and pleasure shone. - - The clouds grew dark, the tide swelled high, - And gloom was o'er the waters flung, - But riding on the billows, nigh - Each other now the bubbles swung. - - Closer and closer still they rushed, - In anger o'er the rolling river; - They met, and 'mid the waters crushed, - The rival bubbles burst for ever! - - - - -Good Night. - - - The sun has sunk behind the hills, - The shadows o'er the landscape creep; - A drowsy sound the woodland fills, - And nature folds her arms to sleep: - Good night--good night. - - The chattering jay has ceased his din-- - The noisy robin sings no more-- - The crow, his mountain haunt within, - Dreams 'mid the forest's surly roar: - Good night--good night. - - The sunlit cloud floats dim and pale; - The dew is falling soft and still; - The mist hangs trembling o'er the vale, - And silence broods o'er yonder mill: - Goodnight--good night. - - The rose, so ruddy in the light, - Bends on its stem all rayless now, - And by its side the lily white - A sister shadow, seems to bow: - Good night--good night. - - The bat may wheel on silent wing-- - The fox his guilty vigils keep-- - The boding owl his dirges sing; - But love and innocence will sleep: - Good night--good night! - - - - -The Mississippi.[A] - - -[Illustration: The Mississippi] - - -I. - - Far in the West, where snow-capt mountains rise, - Like marble shafts beneath Heaven's stooping dome, - And sunset's dreamy curtain drapes the skies, - As if enchantment there would build her home-- - O'er wood and wave, from haunts of men away-- - From out the glen, all trembling like a child, - A babbling streamlet comes as if to play-- - Albeit the scene is savage, lone and wild. - Here at the mountain's foot, that infant wave - 'Mid bowering leaves doth hide its rustic birth-- - Here learns the rock and precipice to brave-- - And go the Monarch River of the Earth! - Far, far from hence, its bosom deep and wide, - Bears the proud steamer on its fiery wing-- - Along its banks, bright cities rise in pride, - And o'er its breast their gorgeous image fling. - The Mississippi needs no herald now-- - But here within this glen unknown to fame, - It flows content--a bubble on its brow, - A leaf upon its breast--without a name! - -[Illustration: Banks of the Mississippi] - - -II. - - Strange contrasts here--for on the glacier's height, - The tempest raves, and arrowy lightnings leap-- - Yet deep beneath, the wild flowers lone and light, - On slender stems in breezeless silence sleep. - Skyward the racing eagles wildly fling - Their savage clamor to the echoing dell-- - While sheltered deep, the bee with folded wing, - Voluptuous slumbers in his fragrant cell. - Around, the splintered rocks are heaped to heaven, - With grisly caverns yawning wide between, - As if the Titans there had battle given, - And left their ruin written on the scene! - Yet o'er these ghastly shapes, soft lichens wind, - And timid daisies droop, and tranquil flowers - A robe of many-colored beauty, bind, - As if some vagrant fairy claimed these bowers. - - -III. - - Fit cradle this--Majestic Stream, for thee! - Nursed at the glacier's foot--by tempests fed-- - The lightning flashing o'er thy canopy, - And thunders pealing round thine infant bed-- - The pious Indian marks thy mystic birth, - 'Mid storm and cloud, and nature's aspect wild-- - And wondering, deems thee not a thing of earth, - But great Manitto's fair and favored child. - Aye--and the mind, by inspiration taught, - Like nature's pupil feels a Presence near, - Which bids the bosom tremble with the thought - That He who came from Teman hath been here![B] - - -IV. - - What thronging fancies crowd upon the soul, - As from these heights the Giant Stream we trace, - And wander with its waters as they roll - From hence, to their far ocean dwelling-place-- - Marking its birth in this bleak frigid zone, - Its conquering march to yonder tropic shore, - The boundless valley which it makes its own, - With thousand tribute rivers as they pour! - No classic page its story to reveal; - No nymph, or naïad, sporting in its glades; - No banks encrimsoned with heroic steel; - And haunted yet by dim poetic shades-- - Its annals linger in the eternal rock, - Hoary with centuries; in cataracts that sing - To the dull ear of ages; in the shock - Of plunging glaciers that madly fling, - The forest like a flight of spears, aloft: - In wooded vales that spread beyond the view; - In boundless prairies, blooming fair and soft; - In mantling vines that teem with clusters blue; - And as the sunny south upon us breathes-- - In orange groves that scent the balmy air, - And tempt soft summer with its fragrant wreaths, - Throughout the year to be a dweller there. - - -V. - - These of the past their whispered lore unfold, - And fertile fancy with its wizard art, - May weave wild legends, as the seers of old - Made gods and heroes into being start. - Perchance some mystic mound may wake the spell: - A crumbled skull--a spear--a vase of clay - Within its bosom half the tale may tell-- - And all the rest 'tis fancy's gift to say. - Alas! that ruthless science in these days, - To its stern crucible hath brought at last, - The cherished shapes that all so fondly gaze - Upon us from the dim poetic past! - Else might these moonlit prairies show at dawn, - The dew-swept circle of the elfin dance-- - These woodlands teem with sportive fay and faun-- - These grottoes glimmer with sweet Echo's glance. - Perchance a future Homer might have wrought - From out the scattered wreck of ages fled, - Some long lost Troy, where mighty heroes fought, - And made the earth re-echo with their tread! - - -VI. - - It may not be, for though these scenes are fair, - As fabled Arcady--the sylph and fay, - And all their gentle kindred, shun the air, - Where car and steamer make their stormy way. - Perchance some Cooper's magic art may wake - The sleeping legends of this mighty vale, - And twine fond memories round the lawn and lake, - Where Warrior fought or Lover told his tale: - And when the Red Man's form hath left these glades, - And memory's moonlight o'er his story streams, - From their dim graves shall rise heroic shades, - And fill the fancy with romantic dreams. - Then, in the city's gorgeous squares shall rise - The chiselled column to the admiring view-- - To mark the spot where some stern Black Hawk lies, - Whom ages gone, our glorious grandsires slew! - -[Illustration: The Indian Lovers] - - -VII. - - Dim shadows these that come at Fancy's call-- - Yet deeper scenes before the Patriot rise, - As fate's stern prophet lifts the fearful pall, - And shows the future to his straining eyes. - Oh! shall that vision paint this glorious vale - With happy millions o'er its bosom spread-- - Or ghastly scenes where battle taints the gale - With brother's blood by brother's weapon shed? - Away, ye phantom fears--the scene is fair, - Down the long vista of uncounted years; - Bright harvests smile, sweet meadows scent the air, - And peaceful plenty o'er the scene appears. - The village rings with labor's jocund laugh, - The hoyden shout around the school-house door, - The old man's voice, as bending o'er his staff, - He waxes valiant in the tales of yore: - Far tapering spires from teeming cities rise, - The sabbath bell comes stealing on the air, - A holy anthem seeks the bending skies, - And earth and heaven seem fondly blended there! - Aye--and beyond, where distance spreads its blue, - Down the unfolding vale of future time, - A glorious vision rises on the view, - And wakes the bosom with a hope sublime. - Majestic Stream! at dim Creation's dawn, - Thou wert a witness of that glorious birth-- - And thy proud waters still shall sweep the lawn - When Peace shall claim dominion of the earth. - Here in this vale for mighty empire made, - Perchance the glorious flag shall be unfurled, - And violence and wrong and ruin fade, - Before its conquering march around the world! - -[Footnote A: We are told by the Geographers that the Missouri, which -rises in the glaciers of the Rocky Mountains, is properly the head stream -of the Mississippi, and it is thus regarded in these lines. In this view, -the Mississippi is the longest river in the world.] - -[Footnote B: Habakkuk iii. 3.] - -[Illustration: Vignette] - - - - -The Two Windmills. - - -[Illustration: The Two Windmills] - - - Two neighbors, living on a hill, - Had each--and side by side--a mill. - The one was Jones,--a thrifty wight-- - Whose mill in every wind went right. - The storm and tempest vainly spent - Their rage upon it--round it went! - E'en when the summer breeze was light, - The whirling wings performed their flight; - And hence a village saying rose-- - "As sure as Jones's mill, it goes." - - Not so with neighbor Smith's--close by; - Full half the time it would not ply: - Save only when the wind was west, - Still as a post it stood at rest. - By every tempest it was battered, - By every thundergust 'twas shattered; - Through many a rent the rain did filter; - And, fair or foul, 'twas out of kilter; - And thus the saying came at last-- - "Smith's mill is made for folks that fast." - - Now, who can read this riddle right? - Two mills are standing on a height-- - One whirling brisk, whate'er the weather, - The other, idle, weeks together! - - Come, gentle reader, lend thine ear, - And thou the simple truth shalt hear; - And mark,--for here the moral lurks,-- - Smith held to faith, but not to works; - While Jones believed in both, and so, - By faith and practice, made it go! - - Smith prayed, and straight sent in his bill, - Expecting Heaven to tend his mill; - And grumbled sore, whene'er he found - That wheels ungreased would not go round. - - Not so with Jones--for, though as prayerful, - To grease his wheels he e'er was careful, - And healed, with ready stitch, each rent - That ruthless time or tempest sent; - And thus, by works, his faith expressed, - Good neighbor Jones by Heaven was blessed. - - - - -The Ideal and the Actual. - - - My boat is on the bounding tide, - Away, away from surge and shore; - A waif upon the wave I ride, - Without a rudder or an oar. - - Blow as ye list, ye breezes, blow-- - The compass now is nought to me; - Flow as ye will, ye billows, flow, - If but ye bear me out to sea. - - Yon waving line of dusky blue, - Where care and toil oppress the heart-- - To thee I bid a long adieu, - And smile to feel that thus we part. - - There let the sweating ploughman toil, - The yearning miser count his gain, - The fevered scholar waste his oil, - But I am bounding o'er the main! - - How fresh these breezes to the brow-- - How dear this freedom to the soul; - Bright ocean, I am with thee now, - So let thy golden billows roll! - - * * * * * - - But stay--what means this throbbing brain-- - This heaving chest--these pulses quick? - Oh, take me to the land again, - _For I am very, very sick!_ - - - - -The Golden Dream. - - - In midnight dreams the Wizard came, - And beckoned me away-- - With tempting hopes of wealth and fame, - He cheered my lonely way. - He led me o'er a dusky heath, - And there a river swept, - Whose gay and glassy tide beneath, - Uncounted treasure, slept. - The wooing ripples lightly dashed - Around the cherished store, - And circling eddies brightly flashed - Above the yellow ore. - I bent me o'er the deep smooth stream, - And plunged the gold to get,-- - But oh! it vanished with my dream-- - And I got dripping wet! - O'er lonely heath and darksome hill, - As shivering home I went, - The mocking Wizard whispered shrill, - 'Thou'dst better been content!' - - - - -The Gipsy's Prayer. - - -[Illustration: The Gipsy's Prayer] - - Our altar is the dewy sod-- - Our temple yon blue throne of God: - No priestly rite our souls to bind-- - We bow before the Almighty Mind. - - Oh, Thou whose realm is wide as air-- - Thou wilt not spurn the Gipsies' prayer: - Though banned and barred by all beside, - Be Thou the Outcast's guard and guide. - - Poor fragments of a Nation wrecked-- - Its story whelmed in Time's neglect-- - We drift unheeded on the wave, - If God refuse the lost to save. - - Yet though we name no Fatherland-- - And though we clasp no kindred hand-- - Though houseless, homeless wanderers we-- - Oh give us Hope, and Heaven with Thee! - - - - -Inscription for a Rural Cemetery. - - - Peace to the dead! The forest weaves, - Around your couch, its shroud of leaves; - While shadows dim and silence deep, - Bespeak the quiet of your sleep. - - Rest, pilgrim, here! Your journey o'er, - Life's weary cares ye heed no more; - Time's sun has set, in yonder west-- - Your work is done--rest, Pilgrim, rest! - - Rest till the morning hour; wait - Here, at Eternity's dread gate, - Safe in the keeping of the sod, - And the sure promises of God. - - Dark is your home--yet round the tomb, - Tokens of hope--sweet flowerets bloom; - And cherished memories, soft and dear, - Blest as their fragrance, linger here! - - We speak, yet ye are dumb! How dread - This deep, stern silence of the Dead! - The whispers of the Grave, severe, - The listening Soul alone can hear! - - - - -Song: The Robin. - - -[Illustration: The Robin] - - At misty dawn, - At rosy morn, - The Redbreast sings alone: - At twilight dim, - Still, still, his hymn - Hath a sad, and sorrowing tone. - - Another day, his song is gay, - For a listening bird is near-- - O ye who sorrow, come borrow, borrow, - A lesson of robin here! - - - - -Thoughts at Sea. - - - Here is the boundless ocean,--there the sky, - O'er-arching broad and blue-- - Telling of God and heaven--how deep, how high, - How glorious and true! - - Upon the wave there is an anthem sweet, - Whispered in fear and love, - Sending a solemn tribute to the feet - Of Him who sits above. - - God of the waters! Nature owns her King! - The Sea thy sceptre knows; - At thy command the tempest spreads its wing, - Or folds it to repose. - - And when the whirlwind hath gone rushing by, - Obedient to thy will, - What reverence sits upon the wave and sky, - Humbled, subdued, and still! - - Oh! let my soul, like this submissive sea, - With peace upon its breast, - By the deep influence of thy Spirit be - Holy and hushed to rest. - - And as the gladdening sun lights up the morn, - Bidding the storm depart, - So may the Sun of Righteousness adorn, - With love, my shadowed heart. - - - - -A Burial at Sea. - - -[Illustration: Burial at Sea] - - The shore hath blent with the distant skies, - O'er the bend of the crested seas, - And the leaning ship in her pathway flies, - On the sweep of the freshened breeze. - - Swift be its flight! for a dying guest - It bears across the billow, - And she fondly sighs in her native West - To find a peaceful pillow. - - There, o'er the tide, her kindred sleep, - And she would sleep beside them-- - It may not be! for the sea is deep, - And the waves--the waves divide them! - - It may not be! for the flush is flown, - That lighted her lily cheek-- - 'Twas the passing beam, ere the sun goes down.-- - Life's last and loveliest streak. - - 'Tis gone, and a dew is o'er her now-- - The dew of the mornless eve-- - No morrow will shine on that pallid brow, - For the spirit hath ta'en its leave. - - * * * * * - - The ship heaves to, and the funeral rite, - O'er the lovely form is said, - And the rough man's cheek with tears is bright, - As he lowers the gentle dead. - - The corse sinks down, alone--alone, - To its dark and dreary grave, - And the soul on a lightened wing hath flown, - To the world beyond the wave. - - * * * * * - - 'Tis a fearful thing in the sea to sleep - Alone in a silent bed-- - 'Tis a fearful thing on the shoreless deep - Of the spirit-world to tread! - - - - -The Dream of Youth. - - -[Illustration: The Dream of Youth] - - In days of yore, while yet the world was new, - And all around was beautiful to view-- - When spring or summer ruled the happy hours, - And golden fruit hung down mid opening flowers; - When, if you chanced among the woods to stray, - The rosy-footed dryad led the way,-- - Or if, beside a mountain brook, your path, - You ever caught some naïad at her bath: - 'Twas in that golden day, that Damon strayed. - Musing, alone, along a Grecian glade. - Retired the scene, yet in the morning light, - Athens in view, shone glimmering to the sight. - 'Twas far away, yet painted on the skies, - It seemed a marble cloud of glorious dyes, - Where yet the rosy morn, with lingering ray, - Loved on the sapphire pediments to play. - But why did Damon heed the _distant_ scene? - For he was young, and all around was green: - A noisy brook was romping through the dell, - And on his ear the laughing echoes fell: - Along his path the stooping wild flowers grew, - And woo'd the very zephyrs as they flew. - Then why young Damon, heeding nought around, - Seemed in some thrall of distant vision bound, - I cannot tell--but dreamy grew his gaze, - And all his thought was in a misty maze. - Awhile he sauntered--then beneath a tree, - He sat him down, and there a reverie - Came o'er his spirit like a spell,--and bright, - A truth-like vision, shone upon his sight. - Around on every side, with glowing pinions, - A circling band, as if from Jove's dominions, - All wooing came, and sought with wily art, - To steal away the youthful dreamer's heart. - One offered wealth--another spoke of fame, - And held a wreath to twine around his name. - One brought the pallet, and the magic brush, - By which creative art bids nature blush, - To see her rival--and the artful boy, - His story told--the all-entrancing joy - His skill could give,--but well the rogue concealed - The piercing thorns that flourish, unrevealed, - Along the artist's path--the poverty, the strife - Of study, and the weary waste of life-- - All these, the drawback of his wily tale, - The little artist covered with a veil. - Young Damon listened, and his heart beat high-- - But now a cunning archer gained his eye-- - And stealing close, he whispered in his ear, - A glowing tale, so musical and dear, - That Damon vowed, like many a panting youth, - To Love, eternal constancy and truth! - But while the whisper from his bosom broke, - A fearful Image to his spirit spoke: - With frowning brow, and giant arm he stood, - Holding a glass, as if in threatening mood, - He waited but a moment for the sand, - To sweep the idle Dreamer from the land! - Young Damon started, and his dream was o'er, - But to his soul, the seeming vision bore - A solemn meaning, which he could not spurn-- - And Youth, perchance, may from our fable learn, - That while the beckoning passions woo and sigh, - TIME, with his ready scythe, stands listening by. - - - - -Remembrance.[A] - - - You bid the minstrel strike the lute, - And wake once more a soothing tone-- - Alas! its strings, untuned, are mute, - Or only echo moan for moan. - - The flowers around it twined are dead, - And those who wreathed them there, are flown; - The spring that gave them bloom is fled, - And winter's frost is o'er them thrown. - - Poor lute! forgot 'mid strife and care, - I fain would try thy strings once more,-- - Perchance some lingering tone is there-- - Some cherished melody of yore. - - If flowers that bloom no more are here, - Their odors still around us cling-- - And though the loved are lost-still dear, - Their memories may wake the string. - - I strike--but lo, the wonted thrill, - Of joy in sorrowing cadence dies: - Alas! the minstrel's hand is chill, - And the sad lute, responsive, sighs. - - 'Tis ever thus--our life begins, - In Eden, and all fruit seems sweet-- - We taste and knowledge, with our sins, - Creeps to the heart and spoils the cheat. - - In youth, the sun brings light alone-- - No shade then rests upon the sight-- - But when the beaming morn is flown, - We see the shadows--not the light - - I once found music every where-- - The whistle from the willow wrung-- - The string, set in the window, there, - Sweet measures to my fancy flung. - - But now, this dainty lute is dead-- - Or answers but to sigh and wail, - Echoing the voices of the fled, - Passing before me dim and pale! - - Yet angel forms are in that train, - And One upon the still air flings, - Of woven melody, a strain, - Down trembling from Her heaven-bent wings. - - 'Tis past--that Speaking Form is flown-- - But memory's pleased and listening ear, - Shall oft recall that choral tone, - To love and poetry so dear. - - And far away in after time, - Shall blended Piety and Love - Find fond expression in the rhyme, - Bequeathed to earth by One above. - - * * * * * - - Poor lute!--thy bounding pulse is still,-- - Yet all thy silence I forgive, - That thus thy last--thy dying thrill, - Would make Her gentle virtues live! - -[Footnote A: Written by request for the "Memorial," a work published in -New-York, 1850, in commemoration of the late Frances S. Osgood,--edited -by Mary E. Hewett.] - - - - -The Old Oak. - - -[Illustration: The Old Oak] - - Friend of my early days, we meet once more! - Once more I stand thine aged boughs beneath, - And hear again the rustling music pour, - Along thy leaves, as whispering spirits breathe. - - Full many a day of sunshine and of storm, - Since last we parted, both have surely known; - Thy leaves are thinned, decrepit is thy form,-- - And all my cherished visions, they are flown! - - How beautiful, how brief, those sunny hours - Departed now, when life was in its spring-- - When Fancy knew no scene undecked with flowers, - And Expectation flew on Fancy's wing! - - Here, on the bank, beside this whispering stream, - Which still runs by as gayly as of yore, - Marking its eddies, I was wont to dream - Of things away, on some far fairy shore. - - Then every whirling leaf and bubbling ball, - That floated by, was full of radiant thought; - Each linked with love, had music at its call, - And thrilling echoes o'er my bosom brought. - - The bird that sang within this gnarled oak, - The waves that dallied with its leafy shade, - The mellow murmurs from its boughs that broke, - Their joyous tribute to my spirit paid. - - No phantom rose to tell of future ill, - No grisly warning marr'd my prophet dreams-- - My heart translucent as the leaping rill, - My thoughts all free and flashing at its beams. - - Here is the grassy knoll I used to seek - At summer noon, beneath the spreading shade, - And watch the flowers that stooped with glowing cheek, - To meet the romping ripples as they played. - - Here is the spot which memory's magic glass - Hath often brought, arrayed in fadeless green, - Making this oak, this brook, this waving grass-- - A simple group--fond Nature's fairest scene. - - And as I roamed beside the Rhone or Rhine, - Or other favored stream, in after days, - With jealous love, this rivulet would shine, - Full on my heart, and claim accustomed praise. - - And oh! how oft by sorrow overborne, - By care oppressed, or bitter malice wrung, - By friends betrayed, or disappointment torn, - My weary heart, all sickened and unstrung-- - - Hath yearned to leave the bootless strife afar, - And find beneath this oak a quiet grave, - Where the rough echo of the world's loud jar, - Yields to the music of the mellow wave! - - And now again I stand this stream beside; - Again I hear the silver ripples flow-- - I mark the whispers murmuring o'er the tide, - And the light bubbles trembling as they go. - - But oh! the magic-spell that lingered here, - In boyhood's golden age, my heart to bless, - With the bright waves that rippled then so clear, - Is lost in ocean's dull forgetfulness. - - Gone are the visions of that glorious time-- - Gone are the glancing birds I loved so well, - Nor will they wake again their silver chime, - From the deep tomb of night in which they dwell! - - And if perchance some fleeting memories steal, - Like far-off echoes to my dreaming ear, - Away, ungrasped, the cheating visions wheel, - As spectres start upon the wing of fear. - - Alas! the glorious sun, which then was high, - Touching each common thing with rosy light, - Is darkly banished from the lowering sky-- - And life's dull onward pathway lies, in night. - - Yes--I am changed--and this gray gnarled form, - Its leaves all scattered by the rending blast, - Is but an image of my heart;--the storm-- - The storm of life, doth make us such at last! - - Farewell, old oak! I leave thee to the wind, - And go to struggle with the chafing tide-- - Soon to the dust thy form shall be resigned, - And I would sleep thy crumbling limbs beside. - - Thy memory will pass; thy sheltering shade, - Will weave no more its tissue o'er the sod; - And all thy leaves, ungathered in the glade, - Shall, by the reckless hoof of time, be trod. - - My cherished hopes, like shadows and like leaves, - Name, fame, and fortune--each shall pass away; - And all that castle-building fancy weaves, - Shall sleep, unthinking, as the drowsy clay. - - But from thy root another tree shall bloom-- - With living leaves its tossing boughs shall rise; - And the winged spirit--bursting from the tomb,-- - Oh, shall it spring to light beyond these skies? - - - - -To a Wild Violet, in March. - -[Illustration: To a Wild Violet, in March] - - My pretty flower, - How cam'st thou here? - Around thee all - Is sad and sere,-- - The brown leaves tell - Of winter's breath, - And all but thou - Of doom and death. - - The naked forest - Shivering sighs,-- - On yonder hill - The snow-wreath lies, - And all is bleak-- - Then say, sweet flower, - Whence cam'st thou here - In such an hour? - - No tree unfolds its timid bud-- - Chill pours the hill-side's lurid flood-- - The tuneless forest all is dumb-- - Whence then, fair violet, didst thou come? - - Spring hath not scattered yet her flowers, - But lingers still in southern bowers; - No gardener's art hath cherished thee, - For wild and lone thou springest free. - - Thou springest here to man unknown, - Waked into life by God alone! - Sweet flower--thou tellest well thy birth,-- - Thou cam'st from Heaven, though soiled in earth! - - - - -Illusions. - - -I. - - As down life's morning stream we glide, - Full oft some Flower stoops o'er its side, - And beckons to the smiling shore, - Where roses strew the landscape o'er: - Yet as we reach that Flower to clasp, - It seems to mock the cheated grasp, - And whisper soft, with siren glee, - "My bloom is not--oh not for thee!" - - -II. - - Within Youth's flowery vale I tread, - By some entrancing shadow led-- - And Echo to my call replies-- - Yet, as she answers, lo, she flies! - And, as I seem to reach her cell-- - The grotto, where she weaves her spell-- - The Nymph's sweet voice afar I hear-- - So Love departs, as we draw near! - - -III. - - Upon a mountain's dizzy height, - Ambition's temple gleams with light: - Proud forms are moving fair within, - And bid us strive that light to win. - O'er giddy cliff and crag we strain, - And reach the mountain top--in vain! - For lo! the temple, still afar, - Shines cold and distant as a star. - - -IV. - - I hear a voice, whose accents dear - Melt, like soft music, in mine ear. - A gentle hand, that seems divine, - Is warmly, fondly clasped in mine; - And lips upon my cheeks are pressed, - That whisper tones from regions blest: - But soon I start--for friendship's kiss - Is gone, and lo! a serpent's hiss. - - -V. - - The sun goes down, and shadows rest - On the gay scenes by morning blest; - The gathering clouds invest the air-- - Yet one bright constant Star is there. - Onward we press, with heavy load, - O'er tangled path and rough'ning road, - For still that Star shines bright before; - But now it sinks, and all is o'er! - - - - -The Rose: to Ellen. - - -[Illustration: The Rose] - - The sportive sylphs that course the air, - Unseen on wings that twilight weaves, - Around the opening rose repair, - And breathe sweet incense o'er its leaves. - - With sparkling cups of bubbles made, - They catch the ruddy beams of day, - And steal the rainbow's sweetest shade, - Their blushing favorite to array. - - They gather gems with sunbeams bright, - From floating clouds and falling showers-- - They rob Aurora's locks of light - To grace their own fair queen of flowers. - - Thus, thus adorned, the speaking Rose, - Becomes a token fit to tell, - Of things that words can ne'er disclose, - And nought but this reveal so well. - - Then take my flower, and let its leaves - Beside thy heart be cherished near, - While that confiding heart receives - The thought it whispers to thine ear! - - - - -The Maniac. - - -[Illustration: The Maniac] - - On a tall cliff that overhung the deep, - A maniac stood. He heeded not the sweep - Of the swift gale that lashed the troubled main, - And spread with showery foam the watery plain. - His reckless foot was on the dizzy line - That edged the rock, impending o'er the brine; - His form was bent, and leaning from the height, - Like the light gull whose wing is stretched for flight. - Far down beneath his feet, the surges broke; - Above his head the pealing thunders spoke; - Around him flashed the lightning's ruddy glare, - And rushing torrents swept along the air. - But nought he heeded, save a gallant sail - That on the sea was wrestling with the gale. - Far on the ocean's billowy verge she hung, - And strove to shun the storm that landward swung. - With many a tack she turned her bending side - To the rude blast, and bravely stemmed the tide. - In vain! the bootless strife with fate is o'er-- - And the doomed vessel nears the iron shore. - A mighty bird, she seems, whose wing is rent - By the red shaft from heaven's fierce quiver sent. - Her mast is shivered and her helm is lashed, - Around her prow the kindled waves are dashed-- - And as an eagle swooping in its might, - Toward the dark cliff she speeds her headlong flight. - She comes, she strikes! the trembling wave withdraws, - And the hushed elements a moment pause; - Then swelling high above their helpless prey, - The billows burst, and bear the wreck away! - - One look to heaven the raptured Maniac cast, - One low breathed murmur from his bosom passed: - 'God of the soul and sea! I read thy choice-- - Told by the shipwreck and the whirlwind's voice. - In this dread omen I can trace my doom, - And hear thee bid me seek an ocean-tomb. - Like the lost ship my weary mind hath striven - With the wild tempest o'er my spirit driven; - That strife is done--and the dim caverned sea - Of this wrecked bosom must the mansion be. - Thou who canst bid the billows cease to roll, - Oh! smooth a pillow for my weary soul-- - Watch o'er the pilgrim in his shadowy sleep, - And send sweet dreams to light the sullen deep!' - - Thus spoke the maniac, while above he gazed, - And his pale hands beseechingly upraised; - Then on the viewless wind he swiftly sprung, - And far below his senseless form was flung; - A thin white spray told where he met the wave, - And battling surges thunder o'er his grave! - - - - -The Two Shades. - - -[Illustration: The Two Shades] - - Along that gloomy river's brim, - Where Charon plies the ceaseless oar, - Two mighty Shadows, dusk and dim, - Stood lingering on the dismal shore. - Hoarse came the rugged Boatman's call, - While echoing caves enforced the cry-- - And as they severed life's last thrall, - Each Spirit spoke one parting sigh. - "Farewell to earth! I leave a name, - Written in fire, on field and flood-- - - Wide as the wind, the voice of fame, - Hath borne my fearful tale of blood. - And though across this leaden wave, - Returnless now my spirit haste, - Napoleon's name shall know no grave, - His mighty deeds be ne'er erased. - The rocky Alp, where once was set - My courser's hoof, shall keep the seal, - And ne'er the echo there forget - The clangor of my glorious steel. - Marengo's hill-sides flow with wine-- - And summer there the olive weaves, - But busy memory e'er will twine - The blood-stained laurel with its leaves. - The Danube's rushing billows haste - With the black ocean-wave to hide-- - Yet is my startling story traced, - In every murmur of its tide. - The pyramid on Giseh's plain, - Its founder's fame hath long forgot-- - But from its memory, time, in vain - Shall strive Napoleon's name to blot. - The bannered storm that floats the sky, - With God's red quiver in its fold, - O'er startled realms shall lowering fly, - A type of me, till time is told. - The storm--a thing of weal and woe, - Of life and death, of peace and power-- - That lays the giant forest low, - Yet cheers the bent grass with its shower-- - That, in its trampled pathway leaves, - The uptorn roots to bud anew, - And where the past o'er ruin grieves, - Bids fresher beauty spring to view:-- - The storm--an emblem of my name,-- - Shall keep my memory in the skies-- - Its flash-wreathed wing, a flag of flame, - Shall spread my glory as it flies." - - The Spirit passed, and now alone, - The darker Shadow trod the shore-- - Deep from his breast the parting tone - Swept with the wind, the landscape o'er. - "Farewell! I will not speak of deeds,-- - For these are written but in sand-- - And, as the furrow choked with weeds, - Fade from the memory of the land. - The war-plumed chieftain cannot stay, - To guard the gore his blade hath shed-- - Time sweeps the purple stain away, - And throws a veil o'er glory's bed. - But though my form must fade from view. - And Byron bow to fate resigned,-- - Undying as the fabled Jew, - Harold's dark spirit stays behind! - And he who yet in after years, - Shall tread the vine-clad shores of Rhine, - In Chillon's gloom shall pour his tears, - Or raptured, see blue Leman shine-- - He shall not--cannot, go alone-- - Harold unseen shall seek his side: - Shall whisper in his ear a tone, - So seeming sweet, he cannot chide. - He cannot chide; although he feel, - While listening to the magic verse, - A serpent round his bosom steal, - He still shall hug the coiling curse. - Or if beneath Italian skies, - The wanderer's feet delighted glide, - Harold, in merry Juan's guise, - Shall be his tutor and his guide. - One living essence God hath poured - In every heart--the love of sway-- - And though he may not wield the sword, - Each is a despot in his way. - The infant rules by cries and tears-- - The maiden, with her sunny eyes-- - The miser, with the hoard of years-- - The monarch, with his clanking ties. - To me the will--the power--were given. - O'er plaything man to weave my spell, - And if I bore him up to heaven, - 'Twas but to hurl him down to hell. - And if I chose upon the rack - Of doubt to stretch the tortured mind, - To turn Faith's heavenward footstep back, - Her hope despoiled--her vision, blind-- - Or if on Virtue's holy brow, - A wreath of scorn I sought to twine-- - And bade her minions mocking bow, - With sweeter vows at pleasure's shrine-- - Or if I mirrored to the thought, - With glorious truth the charms of earth, - While yet the trusting fool I taught, - To scoff at Him who gave it birth-- - Or if I filled the soul with light, - And bore its buoyant wing in air-- - To plunge it down in deeper night, - And mock its maniac wanderings there-- - I did but wield the wand of power, - That God intrusted to my clasp, - And not, the tyrant of an hour-- - Will I resign it to Death's grasp! - The despot with his iron chain, - In idle bonds the limbs may bind-- - He who would hold a sterner reign, - Must twine the links around the mind. - Thus I have thrown upon my race, - A chain that ages cannot rend-- - And mocking Harold stays to trace, - The slaves that to my sceptre bend." - - - - -The Teacher's Lesson. - - - I saw a child some four years old, - Along a meadow stray; - Alone she went--unchecked--untold-- - Her home not far away. - - She gazed around on earth and sky-- - Now paused, and now proceeded; - Hill, valley, wood,--she passed them by, - Unmarked, perchance unheeded. - - And now gay groups of roses bright, - In circling thickets bound her-- - Yet on she went with footsteps light, - Still gazing all around her. - - And now she paused, and now she stooped, - And plucked a little flower-- - A simple daisy 'twas, that drooped - Within a rosy bower. - - The child did kiss the little gem, - And to her bosom pressed it; - And there she placed the fragile stem, - And with soft words caressed it. - - I love to read a lesson true, - From nature's open book-- - And oft I learn a lesson new, - From childhood's careless look. - - Children are simple--loving--true; - 'Tis Heaven that made them so; - And would you teach them--be so too-- - And stoop to what they know. - - Begin with simple lessons--things - On which they love to look: - Flowers, pebbles, insects, birds on wings-- - These are God's spelling-book. - - And children know His A, B, C, - As bees where flowers are set: - Would'st thou a skilful teacher be?-- - Learn, then, this alphabet. - - From leaf to leaf, from page to page, - Guide thou thy pupil's look, - And when he says, with aspect sage, - "Who made this wondrous book?" - - Point thou with reverent gaze to heaven, - And kneel in earnest prayer, - That lessons thou hast humbly given, - May lead thy pupil there. - - - - -Perennials. - - - Life is a journey, and its fairest flowers - Lie in our path beneath pride's trampling feet; - Oh, let us stoop to virtue's humble bowers, - And gather those, which, faded, still are sweet. - - These way-side blossoms amulets are of price; - They lead to pleasure, yet from dangers warn;-- - Turn toil to bliss, this earth to Paradise, - And sunset death to heaven's eternal morn. - - A good deed done hath memory's blest perfume,-- - A day of self-forgetfulness, all given - To holy charity, hath perennial bloom - That goes, undrooping, up from earth to heaven. - - Forgiveness, too, will flourish in the skies-- - Justice, transplanted thither, yields fair fruit; - And if repentance, borne to heaven, dies, - 'Tis that no tears are there to wet its root. - - - - -To a Lady who had been Singing. - - - The spirit-harp within the breast - A spirit's touch alone can know,-- - Yet thine the power to wake its rest, - And bid its echoing numbers flow. - - Yes,--and thy minstrel art the while, - Can blend the tones of weal and we, - So archly, that the heart may smile, - Though bright, unbidden tear-drops flow. - - And thus thy wizard skill can weave - Music's soft twilight o'er the breast, - As mingling day and night, at eve, - Robe the far purpling hills for rest. - - Thy voice is treasured in my soul, - And echoing memory shall prolong - Those woman tones, whose sweet control - Melts joy and sorrow into song. - - The tinted sea-shell, borne away - Far from the ocean's pebbly shore, - Still loves to hum the choral lay, - The whispering mermaid taught of yore. - - The hollow cave, that once hath known - Echo's lone voice, can ne'er forget-- - But gives--though parting years have flown-- - The wild responsive cadence yet. - - So shall thy plaintive melody, - Undying, linger in my heart, - Till the last string of memory, - By death's chill finger struck, shall part! - - - - -The Broken Heart. - - - Oh think not with love's soft token, - Or music my heart to thrill-- - For its strings--its strings are broken, - And the chords would fain be still! - - Oh think not to waken the measure - Of joy on a ruined lute-- - Think not to waken pleasure, - Where grief sits mourning and mute. - - The pearls that gleam in the billow, - But darken the gloom of the deep-- - And laughter plants the pillow - With thorns, where sorrow would sleep. - - The gems that gleam on the finger - Of her who is sleeping and cold, - But wring the hearts that linger. - And dream of the love they told. - - My bosom is but a grave, - My breast a voiceless choir-- - Speak not to the echoless cave, - Touch not the broken lyre! - - - - -The Star Of The West. - -I. - - The cannon is mute and the sword in its sheath-- - Uncrimsoned the banner floats joyous and fair: - Yet beauty is twining an evergreen wreath, - And the voice of the minstrel is heard on the air. - Are these for the glory encircling a crown-- - A phantom evoked but by tyranny's breath? - Are these for the conqueror's vaunted renown-- - All ghastly with gore, and all tainted with death? - Bright Star of the West--broad Land of the Free, - The wreath and the anthem are woven for thee! - - -II. - - When Tyranny came, his fierce lions aloft - Told the instinct that burned in his cohorts of mail-- - But our eagles swooped down, and the battle-field oft, - Was the grave of the foeman,--stern, ghastly and pale. - The cloud of the strife rolled darkly away-- - And the carnage-fed wolves slunk back to their den-- - While Peace shone around like the god of the day, - And shed her blest light on the children of men. - Bright Star of the West--broad Land of the Free! - The wreath and the anthem are woven for thee! - - -III. - - Thus Liberty dawned from the midnight of years; - And here rose her altar. Oh kneel at her shrine! - Her blessings unnumbered--ye children of tears, - Whatever be thy Fatherland--lo they are thine! - In faith and in joy, let us cherish the light, - That comes like the sunshine all warm from above, - For thus shall the Demons that sprung from the night - Of the Past fade away in the noontide of love. - Bright Star of the West--broad Land of the Free, - The wreath and the anthem are woven for thee! - - -IV. - - Stern Seer of the future, thy curtain unroll, - And show to long ages our empire of peace-- - Where man never bent to the despot's control, - And the spirit of liberty never shall cease. - Our Stars and our Stripes 'mid battle's loud thunder, - Were bound by our sires in the wedlock of love-- - Oh! ne'er shall the spirit of strife put asunder, - The UNION thus hallowed by spirits above. - Bright Star of the West--broad Land of the Free, - The wreath and the anthem are woven for thee! - - - - -The Outcast. - -[Illustration: The Outcast] - -I. - - Far, far away, where sunsets weave - Their golden tissues o'er the scene, - And distant glaciers, dimly heave, - Like trailing ghosts, their peaks between-- - Where, at the Rocky Mountain's base, - Arkansas, yet an infant, lingers, - A while the drifting leaves to chase, - Like laughing youth, with playful fingers-- - There Nature, in her childhood, wrought - 'Mid rock and rill, with leaf and flower, - A vale more beautiful than thought - E'er gave to favored fairy's bower: - And in that hidden hermitage, - Of forest, river, lake, and dell,-- - While Time himself grew gray and sage, - The lone Enchantress loved to dwell. - - -II. - - Ages have flown,--the vagrant gales - Have swept that lonely land; the flowers - Have nodded to the breeze; the vales, - Long, long, have sheltered in their bowers, - The forest minstrels; and the race - Of mastodons hath come and gone; - And with the stream of time, the chase - Of bubbling life hath swept the lawn, - Unmarked, save that the bedded clay, - Tells where some giant sleeper lies; - And wrinkled cliffs, tottering and gray, - Whisper of crumbled centuries. - Yet there the valley smiles; the tomb - Of ages is a garden gay, - And wild flowers freshen in their bloom, - As from the sod they drink decay. - And creeping things of every hue, - Dwell in this savage Eden-land, - And all around it blushes new, - As when it rose at God's command. - Untouched by man, the forests wave, - The floods pour by, the torrents fall, - And shelving cliff and shadowy cave, - Hang as bold nature hung them all! - The hunter's wandering foot hath wound, - To this far scene, perchance like mine, - And there a Forest Dreamer found, - Who walks the dell with spectral mien. - Youthful his brow, his bearing high-- - Yet writhed his lip, and all subdued, - The fire that once hath lit his eye. - Wayward and sullen oft his mood; - But he perchance may deign to tell, - As he hath told to me, his tale, - In words like these,--while o'er the dell, - The autumn twilight wove its veil. - - -III. - - "Stranger! these woods are wild and drear; - These tangled paths are rough and lone; - These dells are full of things of fear, - And should be rather shunned than known. - Then turn thy truant foot away, - And seek afar the cultured glade, - Nor dare with reckless step to stray, - 'Mid these lone realms of fear and shade! - You go not, and you seek to hear, - Why one like me should idly roam, - 'Mid scenes like these, so dark, so drear-- - These rocks my bed, these woods my home? - - -IV. - - "One crime hath twined with serpent coil - Around my heart its fatal fold; - And though my struggling bosom toil, - To heave the monster from its hold-- - It will not from its victim part. - By day or night, in down or dell, - Where'er I roam, still, still my heart - Is pressed by that sad serpent spell. - Aye, as the strangling boa clings - Around his prey with fatal grasp, - And as he feels each struggle, wrings - His victim with a closer clasp; - Nor yet till every pulse is dumb, - And every fluttering spasm o'er, - Releases, what, in death o'ercome, - Can strive or struggle now no more; - So is my wrestling spirit wrung, - By that one deep and deadly sin, - That will not, while I live, be flung, - From its sad work of woe within. - -[Illustration: "My native hills," &c.] - - -V. - - "My native hills are far away, - Beneath a soft and sunny sky; - Green as the sea, the forests play, - 'Mid the fresh winds that sweep them by. - I loved those hills, I loved the flowers, - That dashed with gems their sunny swells, - And oft I fondly dreamed for hours, - By streams within those mountain dells. - I loved the wood--each tree and leaf, - In breeze or blast, to me was fair, - And if my heart was touched with grief, - I always found a solace there. - My parents slumbered in the tomb; - But thrilling thoughts of them came back, - And seemed within my breast to bloom. - As lone I ranged the forest track. - The wild flowers rose beneath my feet - Like memories dear of those who slept, - And all around to me was sweet, - Although, perchance, I sometimes wept. - I wept, but not, oh not in sadness, - And those bright tears I would not smother, - For less they flowed in grief than gladness, - So blest the memory of my mother. - And she was linked, I know not why, - With leaves and flowers, and landscapes fair - And all beneath the bending sky, - As if she still were with me there. - The echo bursting from the dell, - Recalled her song beside my bed; - The hill-side with its sunny swell, - Her bosom-pillow for my head. - The breathing lake at even-tide, - When o'er it fell the down of night, - Seemed the sweet heaven, which by her side, - I found in childhood's dreams of light: - And morning, as it brightly broke, - And blessed the hills with joyous dyes, - Was like her look, when first I woke, - And found her gazing in my eyes. - - -VI. - - "Nature became my idol; wood, - Wave, wilderness,--I loved them all; - I loved the forest and the solitude, - That brooded o'er the waterfall,-- - I loved the autumn winds that flew - Between the swaying boughs at night, - And from their whispers fondly drew - Wild woven dreams of lone delight. - I loved the stars, and musing sought - To read them in their depths of blue-- - My fancy spread her sail of thought, - And o'er that sea of azure flew. - Hovering in those blest paths afar, - The wheeling planets seem to trace, - My spirit found some islet-star, - And chose it for its dwelling-place. - I loved the morn, and ere the lay - Of plaintive meadow-lark began, - 'Mid dewy shrubs I tore my way, - Up the wild crag where waters ran. - I listened to the babbling tide, - And thought of childhood's merry morn,-- - I listened to the bird that tried - Prelusive airs, amid the thorn. - And then I went upon my way; - Yet ere the sunrise kissed my cheek, - I stood upon the forehead gray - Of some lone mountain's dizzy peak. - A ruddy light was on the hill, - But shadows in the valley slept; - A white mist rested o'er the rill, - And shivering leaves with tear-drops wept. - The sun came up, and nature woke, - As from a deep and sweet repose; - From every bush soft music broke, - And blue wreaths from each chimney rose. - From the green vale that lay below. - Full many a carol met my ear; - The boy that drove the teeming cow. - And sung or whistled in his cheer; - The dog that by his master's side, - Made the lone copse with echoes ring: - The mill that whirling in the tide, - Seemed with a droning voice to sing; - The lowing herd, the bleating flock, - And many a far-off murmuring wheel: - Each sent its music up the rock, - And woke my bosom's echoing peal. - - -VII. - - "And thus my early hours went o'er: - Each scene and sound but gave delight; - Or if I grieved, 'twas like the shower, - That comes in sunshine, brief and bright. - My heart was like the summer lake, - A mirror in some valley found, - Whose depths a mimic world can make - More beautiful than that around. - The wood, the slope, the rocky dell, - To others dear, were dearer yet - To me; for they would fondly dwell - Mirrored in memory; and set - In the deep azure of my dreams - At night, how sweet they rose to view! - How soft the echo, and the streams, - How swift their laughing murmurs flew! - And when the vision broke at morn, - The music in my charmed ear, - As of some fairy's lingering horn,-- - My native hills, how soft, how dear! - - -VIII. - - "So passed my boyhood; 'twas a stream - Of frolic flow, 'mid Nature's bowers; - A ray of light--a golden dream-- - A morning fair--a path of flowers! - But now another charm came o'er me: - The ocean I had never seen; - Yet suddenly it rolled before me, - With all its crested waves of green! - Soft sunny islands, far and lone, - Where the shy petrel builds her nest; - Deep coral caves to mermaids known-- - These were my visions bright and blest. - Oh! how I yearned to meet the tide, - And hear the bristling surges sweep; - To stand the watery world beside, - And ponder o'er the glorious deep! - I bade my home adieu, and bent - My eager footsteps toward the shore, - And soon my native hills were blent, - With the pale sky that arched them o'er. - Four days were passed, and now I stood - Upon a rock that walled the deep: - Before me rolled the boundless flood, - A glorious dreamer in its sleep. - 'Twas summer morn, and bright as heaven; - And though I wept, I was not sad, - For tears, thou knowest, are often given - When the overflowing heart is glad. - Long, long I watched the waves, whose whirls - Leaped up the rocks, their brows to kiss, - And dallied with the sea-weed curls, - That stooped and met, as if in bliss. - Long, long I listened to the peal, - That whispered from the pebbly shore, - And like a spirit seemed to steal - In music to my bosom's core. - And now I looked afar, and thought - The sea a glad and glorious thing; - And fancy to my bosom brought - Wild dreams upon her wizard wing-- - Her wing that stretched o'er spreading waves, - And chased the far-off flashing ray, - Or hovering deep in twilight caves, - Caught the lone mermaid at her play. - - -IX. - - "And thus the sunny day went by, - And night came brooding o'er the seas; - A thick cloud swathed the distant sky, - And hollow murmurs filled the breeze. - The white gull screaming, left the rock, - And seaward bent its glancing wing, - While heavy waves, with measured shock, - Made the dun cliff with echoes ring. - How changed the scene! The glassy deep - That slumbered in its resting-place, - And seeming in its morning sleep - To woo me to its soft embrace, - Now wakened, was a fearful thing,-- - A giant with a scowling form, - Who from his bosom seemed to fling - The blackened billows to the storm. - The wailing winds in terror gushed - From the swart sky, and seemed to lash - The foaming waves, which madly rushed - Toward the tall cliff with headlong dash. - Upward the glittering spray was sent, - Backward the growling surges whirled, - And splintered rocks by lightnings rent, - Down thundering midst the waves were hurled. - I trembled, yet I would not fly; - I feared, yet loved, the awful scene; - And gazing on the sea and sky, - Spell-bound I stood the rocks between. - - -X. - - "'Twas strange that I, a mountain boy, - A lover of green fields and flowers,-- - One, who with laughing rills could toy, - And hold companionship for hours, - With leaves that whispered low at night, - Or fountains bubbling from their springs, - Or summer winds, whose downy flight, - Seemed but the sweep of angel wings:-- - 'Twas strange that I should love the clash - Of ocean in its maddest hour, - And joy to see the billows dash - O'er the rent cliff with fearful power. - 'Twas strange,--but I was nature's own, - Unchecked, untutored; in my soul - A harp was set that gave its tone - To every touch without control. - The zephyr stirred in childhood warm, - Thoughts like itself, as soft and blest; - And the swift fingers of the storm - Woke its own echo in my breast. - Aye, and the strings that else had lain - Untouched, and to myself unknown, - Within my heart, gave back the strain - That o'er the sea and rock was thrown. - Yes, and wild passions, which had slept - Within their cradle, as the waves - At morning by the winds unswept, - Rippling within their infant caves-- - Now, wakened into billows, rose, - And held communion with the storm: - I saw the air and ocean close - In deadly struggle; marked the form - Of the dun cloud with misty wing, - That wrestled with the giant main; - I saw the racing billows spring - Like lions leaping from the plain; - I saw the surf that upward threw - Gray pyramids of foam to heaven; - I heard the battle-cry that flew - Along the cliff, as though t'were given - To cheer the elemental war; - I heard the wild bird screaming near; - I felt the rock beneath me jar, - As if the granite thrilled with fear; - I saw, I heard,--yet in my heart - The cloud, the cliff, the billow seemed - As of myself an imaged part,-- - Things I had seen, or oft had dreamed; - And in my ear, the thundering tide - Was music, and the ocean's moan - An echo of my spirit, wide - As the wave, and stormy as its own. - - -XI. - - "So passed my morning dreams away, - Like birds that shun a wintry cloud, - And phantom visions, grim and gray, - Came mist-like from the watery shroud: - Prophetic visions of the deep, - Emblems of those within the breast, - Which, summoned from their shadowy sleep, - Ride on the storm by passion pressed! - In ghastly shapes they rose to view, - All gibbering from their crystal caves, - As if some horrid mirth they drew - From the wild uproar of the waves. - With beckoning hands they seemed to urge - My footsteps down the dizzy way, - To join their train upon the surge, - And dance with them amidst the spray: - And such the madness of my brain, - That I was fain to seek the throng; - To meet and mingle on the main, - With their mad revelry and song. - One step, and down the dizzy cliff, - My form had to the waters swung, - But gliding in a wreathy skiff, - That o'er the crested billows hung, - A white form like my mother seemed - To shine a moment on my eye;-- - With warning look the vision gleamed, - Then vanished upward to the sky! - - -XII. - - "I left the thundering tide, and sought - Once more the mountain and the stream; - But long the wrestling ocean wrought - Within my bosom: as a dream - My boyhood vanished, and I woke - Startled to manhood's early morn; - No father's hand my pride to yoke, - No mother's angel voice to warn. - No,--and the gentle vision, lost, - That once could curb my wayward will, - And lull my bosom passion-tossed, - With one soft whisper, "Peace, be still!"-- - That vision, spurned by manhood's pride, - Came down from heaven to me no more, - And I was launched without a guide, - To be a wreck on passion's shore. - Alas! the giddy bark at sea, - 'Mid waves that woo it down to death, - From helm and compass wafted free, - The toy of every tempest's breath,-- - Is but a type of him who goes, - Trusting to nature, on the tide - Of life, where breezy passion blows, - To whelm the adventurer in his pride. - Yes, for the smoothest lake hath waves - Within its bosom, which will rise - And revel when the tempest raves; - The cloud will come o'er gentlest skies; - And not a favored spot on earth, - The furrowing ploughman finds, but there - The rank and ready weeds have birth, - Sown by the winds to mock his care. - 'Tis thus with every human heart; - The seeds of ill are scattered wide, - And flaunting flowers of vice will start - Thick o'er the soil they seek to hide. - Aye, and the gentleness of youth, - That seems some hill-side sown with flowers, - Odorous, as if with budding truth, - Shoots into wild fantastic bowers. - The spark for ever tends to flame; - The ray that quivers in the plash - Of yonder river, is the same - That feeds the lightning's ruddy flash. - The summer breeze that fans the rose, - Or eddies down some flowery path, - Is but the infant gale that blows - To-morrow with the whirlwind's wrath. - And He alone, who wields the storm, - And bids the arrowy lightning play, - Can guide the heart, when wild and warm, - It springs on passion's wing away! - One angel minister is sent, - To guard and guide us to the sky, - And still Her sheltering wing is bent, - Till manhood rudely throws it by. - Oh, then with mad disdain we spurn - A mother's gentle teaching; throw - Her bosom from us, and we burn, - To rush in freedom, where the glow - Of pleasure lights the dancing wave: - We launch the bark, we woo the gale, - And reckless of the darkling grave - That yawns below, we speed the sail! - - -XIII. - - "Stranger! a murderer stands before thee! - To tell the guilty tale were vain-- - It is enough--the curse is o'er me-- - And I am but a wandering Cain. - What boots it that the world bestows, - For deeds of death its honors dear? - The blood that from the duel flows, - Will cry to heaven, and heaven will hear! - Thou shalt not kill!' 'Twas deeply traced - In living stone, and thunder-sealed; - It cannot be by man effaced, - Or fashion's impious act repealed. - And though we seek with thin deceit, - To blind Jehovah's piercing gaze, - Call murder, honor,--can we cheat - The Omniscient with a specious phrase? - Alas! 'tis adding crime to crime, - To veil the blood our hands have spilt, - And seek by words of softening chime, - To lend blest virtue's charm to guilt. - Oh, no! in vain the world may give - The fearful deed a gentle name-- - I slew my friend, and now I live - To feel perdition's glowing flame. - His missile cut the upward air-- - Mine, winged with murder won its way, - Straight to his manly bosom,--there - He fell, unconscious as the clay! - One thrill of triumph through me swept,-- - But, as I gazed upon his brow, - A chilling horror o'er me crept,-- - And I am what thou seest now! - -[Illustration: The Moonlit Prairie] - - -XIV. - - "Stranger,--thy bosom cannot know - The desolation of the soul, - When the rough, gale hath ceased to blow, - Yet o'er it bids the billow roll. - A helmless wreck upon the tide-- - An earthquake's ruin wrapped in gloom-- - A gnarled oak blasted in its pride-- - Are feeble emblems of my doom. - There is a tongue in every leaf, - A sigh in every tossing tree-- - A murmur in each wave; of grief - They whisper, and they speak to me. - Nature hath many voices--strings - Of varied melody: and oft - Lone spirits come on breezy wings, - To wake their music sad or soft. - But in the wilderness, where Heaven - Is the wrapt listener, the tone - Is ever mournful: there is given, - A chorus for the skies, alone. - At night, when the pale moonlight falls - O'er prairies, sleeping like a grave, - And glorious through these mountain halls, - Pours in a flood its silvery wave-- - I climb the cliff, and hear the song, - That o'er the breast of stillness steals: - I hear the cataract thundering strong - From far; I hear the wave that peals - Along the lone lake's pebbly shore; - I hear the sweeping gust that weaves - The tree tops, and the winds that pour - In rippling lapses through the leaves. - And as the diapason sweeps - Across the breast of night, the moan - Of wolves upon the spirit creeps, - Lending the hymn a wilder tone. - The panther's wail, the owlet's scream, - The whippoorwill's complaining song, - Blend with the cataract's solemn theme, - And the wild cadences prolong. - And often when the heart is chilled - By the deep harmony, the note - Of some light-hearted bird is trilled - Upon the breeze. How sweet its throat! - Yet, as a gem upon the finger - Of a pale corse, deepens the gloom, - By its bright rays that laugh and linger - In the dread bosom of the tomb; - So doth the note of that wild bird, - Sadden the anthem of the hills, - And my hushed bosom, spirit-stirred, - With lonelier desolation thrills. - - -XV. - - "You bid me pray? aye, I have prayed! - Each cliff and cave, each rock and glen, - Have heard my ardent lips invade - The ear of Heaven,--again, again. - And in the secret hour of night, - When all-revealing darkness brings - Its brighter world than this of light-- - My spirit, borne on wizard wings, - Hath won its upward way afar, - And ranged the shoreless sea of dreams-- - Hath touched at many a wheeling star - That shines beyond these solar beams; - And on the trackless deep of thought, - Like Him, who found this Western World, - 'Mid doubt and storm my passage wrought, - Till weary fancy's wing was furled-- - And, as the sky-bent eagle, borne - Down by the lightning blast of heaven, - So was my outcast spirit torn, - And backward to its dwelling driven. - Yet not in vain, perchance, my tears, - My penitence, my patient prayer, - For, softened with the flow of years, - My breast is lightened of its care. - And once at night when meteors flew - Down on their glittering wings from heaven, - My mother's spirit met my view, - Whispering of peace and sin forgiven! - Yet, though my lip to thee confess, - My wrestling bosom's sweet relief, - Think not I count my crime the less, - That pitying Heaven hath soothed my grief. - No--yon wild rose hath sweet perfume - To scatter on this desert air; - Yet, hid beneath its fragrant bloom, - Sharp thorns are set, the flesh to tear. - And thus, repentance, while it brings - Forgiveness to the broken heart, - Still leaves contrition's thousand stings - To waken sorrow with their smart. - - -XVI. - - "Such is my story--this my home,-- - And I the monarch of the dell-- - Above my head, the forest dome,-- - Around, the battlements that swell - To heaven, and make my castle strong. - My messengers are winds that lave - Far reedy shores, and bring me song, - Blent with the murmurs of the wave. - And birds of every rainbow hue, - The antelope, and timid deer, - The wild goat mingling with the blue - Of heaven on yonder rock, are here. - And oft at morn, the mocking-bird - Doth greet me with its sweetest lay; - The wood-dove, where the bush is stirred, - Looks from its cover on my way. - I would not break the spider's thread,-- - The buzzing insect dances free; - I crush no toad beneath my tread,-- - The lizard crawls in liberty! - I harm no living thing; my sway - Of peace hath soothed the grumbling bear,-- - The wolf walks by in open day, - And fawns upon me from his lair. - Aye, and my heart hath bowed so low, - I gather in this solitude, - Joy from the love that seems to flow - From these brute tenants of the leafy wood. - -[Illustration: The Farewell] - - -XVII. - - "Stranger, farewell! The deepening eve doth warn, - And the mild moonlight beckons thee away; - And, ere the lingering night shall melt to morn, - Let thy swift foot across the prairie stray. - Nay, tempt me not! for I alone am cast, - A wretch from all I used to grieve or bless; - And doomed to wail and wander here at last, - Am deeply wedded to the wilderness. - Thy hand again shall feel the thrilling grasp - Of friendship--and thine ear shall catch the tone - Of joyous kindred; and thine arm shall clasp, - Perchance, some gentle bosom to thine own. - Oh God! 'tis right--for he hath never torn, - With his own daring hand the thread of life-- - He ne'er hath stolen thy privilege, or borne - A fellow mortal down in murderous strife! - - -XVIII. - - "Stranger, farewell! these woods shall be my home, - And here shall be my grave! My hour is brief, - But while it lasts, it is my task to roam, - And read of Heaven from nature's open leaf. - And though I wander from my race away, - As some lone meteor, dim and distant, wheels - In wintry banishment, where but a ray - Of kindred stars in timid twilight steals-- - Still will I catch the light that faintly falls - Through my leaf-latticed window of the skies, - And I will listen to the voice that calls - From heaven, where the wind stricken forest sighs. - And I will read of dim Creation's morn, - From the deep archives of these mossy hills-- - On wings of wizard thought, my fancy, borne - Back by the whispers of these pouring rills, - Shall read the unwritten record of the land-- - For God, unwitnessed here hath walked the dell, - These cliffs have quivered at his loud command, - These waters blushed, where his deep shadow fell! - And at his bidding, 'mid these solitudes, - The ebb and flow of life have poured their waves, - Till Time, the hoary sexton of these woods, - Despairing, broods o'er the uncounted graves. - And warrior tribes have come from some far land, - And made these mountains echo with their cry-- - And they have mouldered--and their mighty hand - Hath writ no record on the earth or sky! - And 'mid the awful stillness of their grave, - The forest oaks have flourished; and the breath - Of years hath swept their races, wave on wave, - As ages fainted on the shores of death. - The tumbling cliff perchance hath thundered deep, - Like a rough note of music in the song - Of centuries, and the whirlwind's crushing sweep, - Hath ploughed the forest with its furrows strong. - And though these legends, like the eddying leaves - Of autumn, scattered by the whirlwind's breath, - Are borne away where dim Oblivion weaves - Her shroud, within the rayless halls of death; - Still with a prophet gaze I'll thread my way, - And wake the giant spectres of the tomb; - With fancy's wand I'll chase the phantoms gray, - And burst the shadowy seal that shrouds their doom. - Thus shall the past its misty lore unfold, - And bid my soul on nature's ladder rise, - Till I shall meet some clasping hand, whose hold - Shall draw my homesick spirit to the skies. - - -XIX. - - "Farewell! the thread of sympathy that tied - My heart to man is sundered, and I go - To hold communion with the shades that glide, - Wherever forests wave, or waters flow. - And when my fluttering heart shall faint and fail, - These limbs shall totter to some hollow cave, - Where the poor Dreamer's dream shall cease. The gale - Shall gather music from the wood and wave, - And pour it in my dying ear; the wing - Of busy zephyrs to the flowers shall go, - And from them all their sweetest odors bring, - To soothe, perchance, their fainting lover's woe. - My sinking soul shall catch the dreamy sound - Of far-off waters, murmuring to their doom, - And eddying winds, from distant mountains bound, - Shall come to sing a requiem round my tomb. - The breeze shall o'er me weave a leafy shroud, - And I shall slumber in the shadowy dell-- - Till God shall rend the spirit's darkling cloud, - And give it wings of light. Stranger, Farewell!" - - - - -Good and Evil. - -[Illustration: The Expulsion from Eden] - - - When man from Paradise was driven, - And thorns around his pathway sprung, - Sweet Mercy wandering there from heaven - Upon those thorns bright roses flung. - - Aye, and as Justice cursed the ground, - She stole behind, unheard, unseen-- - And while the curses fell around, - She scattered seeds of joy between. - - And thus, as evils sprung to light, - And spread, like weeds, their poisons wide, - Fresh healing plants came blooming bright, - And stood, to check them, side by side. - - And now, though Eden blooms afar, - And man is exiled from its bowers, - Still mercy steals through bolt and bar, - And brings away its choicest flowers. - - The very toil, the thorns of care, - That Heaven in wrath for sin imposes, - By mercy changed, no curses are-- - One brings us rest, the other roses. - - Thus joy is linked with every woe-- - Each cup of ill its pleasure brings; - The rose is crushed, but then, you know, - The sweeter fragrance from it springs. - - If justice throw athwart our way, - A deepening eve of fear and sorrow, - Hope, like the moon, reflects the ray - Of the bright sun that shines to-morrow. - - And mercy gilds with stars the night; - Sweet music plays through weeping willows; - The blackest cave with gems is bright, - And pearls illume the ocean billows. - - The very grave, though clouds may rise, - And shroud it o'er with midnight gloom, - Unfolds to faith the deep blue skies, - That glorious shine beyond the tomb. - - - - -The Mountain Stream. - - One summer morn, while yet the thrilling lay, - Of the dew-loving lark was full and strong, - Trampling the wild flowers in my careless way, - Up the steep mountain-side I strode along-- - My only guide, a brook whose joyous song, - Seemed like a boy's light-hearted roundelay, - As down it rushed, the leafy bowers among, - Scattering o'er bud and bloom its pearly spray-- - A beauteous semblance of life's opening day. - - And looking back to that all-gladdening morn, - When I was free and sportive as the stream-- - When roses blushed with no suspected thorn, - And fancy's sunlight gilded every dream-- - While hope yet shed its sweet delusive beam, - And disappointment still delayed to warn-- - With fond regret, I still pursued the theme-- - With clambering step still up the steep was borne, - Too sad to smile, too pleased perchance to mourn. - - And now I stood beside that rivulet's spring, - That came unbidden with a bubbling bound-- - And stealing forth, a gentle trembling thing, - It seemed an infant fearing all around-- - Yet clinging to its mother's breast--the ground. - But soon it bolder grew, and with a wing - It went: its carol was a joyous sound, - Making the silent woods responsive ring, - And the far forest-echoes, sighing, sing. - - And now I stood upon the mountain's height-- - Like a wide map, the landscape lay unrolled-- - There could I trace that rivulet's path of light, - From the steep mountain to the sea of gold; - Now leaping o'er the rocks like chamois bold,-- - Now like a crouching hare concealed from sight,-- - Now hid beneath the willow's bowering fold, - As if they sought to stay its arrowy flight, - Then give it forth again more swift and bright. - - 'Twas changeful--beautiful; now dark, now fair-- - A tale of life, from childhood to the tomb-- - Its birth-place near the skies, in mountain air, - Where wild flowers throw around their sweet perfume, - Like the blest thoughts that often brightly bloom, - At home, beneath a mother's culturing care-- - Its form now hid in shadows, such as gloom - Our downward way--its grave in ocean, where - It mingles with the wave--a dweller there! - - And though that stream be hidden from the view, - 'Tis yet preserved 'neath ocean's briny crest: - That wide eternity of waves is true-- - And as the planets anchored in their rest, - The sparkling streamlet lives; and while unblest, - The land-wave stagnant lingers--there the blue - Tide holds the river stainless in its breast-- - An image still of life, that sparkles through - The starry deep of heaven, for ever new. - -[Illustration: Vignette] - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Sam G. Goodrich - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 11558.txt or 11558.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/5/11558/ - -Produced by PG Distributed Proofreaders. Produced from page scans -provided by Internet Archive Children's Library and University of -Florida. - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -https://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at https://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit https://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including including checks, online payments and credit card -donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - https://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - -EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, -are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to -download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular -search system you may utilize the following addresses and just -download by the etext year. For example: - - https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 - - (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, - 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) - -EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are -filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part -of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is -identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single -digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For -example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: - - https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 - -or filename 24689 would be found at: - https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 - -An alternative method of locating eBooks: - https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL - - |