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diff --git a/29606-h/29606-h.htm b/29606-h/29606-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5b604b --- /dev/null +++ b/29606-h/29606-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2030 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Emigrant, or Reflections While Descending the Ohio, by Frederick W. Thomas.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + .center p {text-align: center;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: 0.25em; text-decoration: none; font-size: .9em;} + .larger {font-size: large;} + .padtop {margin-top: 2em;} + .smaller {font-size: small;} + .trnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: small; padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; border: dotted 1px gray;} + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center;} + ins {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em; clear: both;} + + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .smcaplc {text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + p.cg {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-align: left; width: 101%;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} + span.indent2 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 0.8em; display: block; float: left;} + span.indent4 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 1.6em; display: block; float: left;} + span.indent6 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 2.4em; display: block; float: left;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Emigrant, by Frederick William Thomas + +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: The Emigrant + or Reflections While Descending the Ohio + +Author: Frederick William Thomas + +Release Date: August 4, 2009 [EBook #29606] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMIGRANT *** + + + + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Katherine Ward, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain works at the +University of Michigan's Making of America collection.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class="center"> +<h1><span class="smaller">THE</span><br /> +EMIGRANT,</h1> + +<h2 style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 2em;"><span class="smaller">OR</span><br /> +<b>REFLECTIONS</b><br /> +WHILE DESCENDING THE OHIO.</h2> +<p class='larger'><b>A Poem</b>,</p> +<p>BY FREDERICK W. THOMAS.</p> +<hr class='short padtop' /> +<p>“<i>Westward the star of Empire takes its way.</i>”</p> +<hr class='short' /> +<p class='padtop'>From the original Edition of 1833, to which is +added a memoir of the author.</p> +<p class='padtop'>CINCINNATI:<br /> +PRINTED FOR J. DRAKE.<br /> +SPILLER, PRINTER.<br /> +1872.</p> +<p class='padtop smaller'>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872: +By JOSIAH DRAKE, +In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><p class="smaller" style='text-align:right;'>PAGE</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Preface</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#PREFACE'>iii</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Dedication</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DEDICATION'>v</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Memoir</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MEMOIR'>vii</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Emigrant</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_EMIGRANT__OR__REFLECTIONS__WHILE_DESCENDING_THE_OHIO'>9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Notes</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#NOTES'>41</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Errata</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ERRATA'>48</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='PREFACE' id='PREFACE'></a> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> +</div> +<p>This <span class='smcap'>Poem</span> was written under the circumstances +which its title implies. Three years since, as the author +was descending the Ohio, to become a citizen of +the West, he wrote a considerable number of stanzas, +expressive of his feelings, six or eight of which were +published as a fragment on his arrival in Cincinnati, +in the Commercial Daily Advertiser, and republished +and noticed by different prints in a way that induced +the author, from time to time, to add stanzas to stanzas, +until they almost imperceptibly reached their +present number. He wrote on, without any previous +study of the style or manner in which the subject +should be pursued––using the poetic license of light +and shade as Fancy dictated. Being in ill health, and +coming to a strange land, it was very natural for his +Reflections to be of a sombre cast, without there being +any thing peculiar in his situation differing from +that of other Emigrants.</p> +<p>The reader will perceive that the metrical arrangement +of the stanzas is the same as that used by Gray, +in his Ode to Adversity, with this difference, that the +Ode is written in lines of eight syllables, and the author +has attempted the heroic measure.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_iv' name='page_iv'></a>iv</span></div> +<p>After the <span class='smcap'>Poem</span> had been finished some time, the +author delivered it in the Hall of the Lyceum to an +assemblage of Ladies and Gentlemen. Their reception +and that of the several editors (to whom he is +most grateful) who noticed its delivery, and gave extracts +from the <span class='smcap'>Poem</span>, induced him to publish it.</p> +<p>The author has by him many manuscript pieces +with which he might have swelled the volume to a +much greater size; but as this is his first attempt at +authorship, in the shape of a volume, he offers it, +tremblingly, at the ordeal of public opinion, merely +as a sample of his ware.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='DEDICATION' id='DEDICATION'></a> +<h2>DEDICATION.</h2> +</div> +<p class='center'><span class='smcaplc'>TO CHARLES HAMMOND, ESQ.</span></p> +<p><span class='smcap'>My Dear Sir</span>,</p> +<blockquote> +<p>Before I had the pleasure of your personal acquaintance, +differing from you as I do on many political +points, I imbibed some of those impressions +against you, which ever attach to an exalted character, +when he takes a decided stand in the political arena.</p> +<p>Permit me, Sir, in acknowledging how much those +impressions were prejudices, to inscribe this volume to +you, in testimony of my admiration for your talents, +and respect for your virtues. And, moreover, as the +first encouragement which I received, for this my first +literary attempt of any length, proceeded from yourself; +if it has merit, I know no one to whom I should +more properly inscribe it than to the one, who being +entitled to speak <i>ex cathedra</i> on the subject, first cheered +me with the hope of its success. And if it shall be +found to be destitute of merit, while it shows that +your judgment has for once been wrong, it will also +prove that the error proceeded from a personal partiality, +for which I am anxious to express my gratitude.</p> +</blockquote> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>I am, Sir,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With the greatest respect,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Your obliged friend and humble servant,<br /> +<span class='indent6'> </span>THE AUTHOR.<br /> +<br /> +<span class='smcap'>Cincinnati</span>, <i>April 23, 1833</i>.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='MEMOIR' id='MEMOIR'></a> +<h2>MEMOIR.</h2> +</div> +<p>Frederick William Thomas was the oldest child of E. +S. Thomas and Anna his wife. He was born at Providence +Rhode Island, but spent his earlier years at Charleston +South Carolina, where Mr. E. S. Thomas resided +and edited and published the Charleston City Gazette.</p> +<p>While Frederick William was still young, Mr. Thomas +removed to Baltimore Maryland, and there his son was +educated and brought up to the profession of the law. +Being unfortunate in business, when Frederick William +was about nineteen, Mr. Thomas resolved to remove with +his family to the west, which he did, making Cincinnati +his place of residence. His son however, remained in +Baltimore.</p> +<p>It was in the following year while journeying West, +to join his family in their new home, that this poem––the +Emigrant was suggested to him, by the associations and the +romantic scenery of the Ohio river, and while descending +it most, if not all the poem, was written. He was about +twenty-one when it appeared. It was followed by “Clinton +Bradshaw,” or the adventures of a Lawyer, published by +Carey, Lee and Blanchard, of Philadelphia. This was +called the best American Novel of its time. Mr. Thomas’ +next venture was “East and West” which was succeeded +by “Howard Pinkney.” During the years which intervened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_viii' name='page_viii'></a>viii</span> +between the writing of these books he resided in the +west, principally in Cincinnati, and wrote tales, sketches, +fugitive poetry, delivered lectures, and made political +speeches. In 1840 when General Harrison was elected +President, Mr. Thomas went to Washington City. After +General Harrison’s death, Mr. Tyler gave him an office +under government and he continued to reside at the Capital, +but wrote little except an occasional song or story. +Some years elapsed and Mr. Thomas left Washington and +went south on a lecturing tour. He was engaged to write +for several newspapers and continued lecturing through +the South and West. His literary efforts at this period +were chiefly confined to Magazine articles, short poems +and songs. His song “T’is said that Absence conquers +Love,” was one of the most popular of the day. He often +spoke of the feeling he had in passing of a summers night +through a strange city and having his own words greet +him from houses whose inmates only knew of his existence +through them.</p> +<p>Clinton Bradshaw was also very popular. An American +visiting Calcutta India, wrote home of the thrill it +gave him to find it on the shelves of a book store there.</p> +<p>Mr. Thomas was popular in society for he was +amiable and entertaining. He was a fine belle letter +scholar, and was remarkable for his conversationable powers––he +had a fund of anecdote always at command. He +was a great observer and studier of Character and a believer +in human nature.</p> +<p>The year 1866 found him again in Washington city +where after a short illness he died. Recently his remains +have been brought to Cincinnati, by his brother Calvin W. +Thomas and placed beside those of his parents in Spring +Grove Cemetery.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +<a name='THE_EMIGRANT__OR__REFLECTIONS__WHILE_DESCENDING_THE_OHIO' id='THE_EMIGRANT__OR__REFLECTIONS__WHILE_DESCENDING_THE_OHIO'></a> +<h2> The Emigrant,</h2> +<h3> OR<br /> REFLECTIONS<a name='FNanchor_0001' id='FNanchor_0001'></a><a href='#Footnote_0001' class='fnanchor'>[1]</a><br /> WHILE DESCENDING THE OHIO.</h3> +</div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='center cg'>I.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>We both are pilgrims, wild and winding river!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Both wandering onward to the boundless West––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But thou art given by the good All-giver,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Blessing a land to be in turn most blest:<a name='FNanchor_0002' id='FNanchor_0002'></a><a href='#Footnote_0002' class='fnanchor'>[2]</a><br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While, like a leaf-borne insect, floating by,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Chanceful and changeful is my destiny;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I needs must follow where thy currents lave––<br /> +Perchance to find a home, or else, perchance a grave.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>II.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Yet, dost thou bear me on to one I’ve loved<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>From Boyhood’s thoughtlessness to Manhood’s thought,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In all the changes of our lives, unmoved––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That young affection no regret has brought:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Beloved one! when I seem Fortune’s slave,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Reckless and wrecked upon the wayward wave,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Bright Hope, the Halcyon, rises o’er the sea,<br /> +Calming the troubled wave––bearing my heart to thee.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>III.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Alas! we parted: what a bitter sorrow<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Clings to the memory of our last embrace!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No joy to-day, no promise of to-morrow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No idol image, shall usurp thy place:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>For thee my holiest hope is upward given––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>My love for thee is with my love for Heav’n,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A dedication of my heart to thine,<br /> +With God to smile on both, and consecrate the shrine.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>IV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Our home, when last I saw it, was all lone;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Yet my affections peopled it with those<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Whose sunny smile upon my boyhood shone;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then came reality,––the heart-spring froze:––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There was the stream, the willow, and the wild wood,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where, emulous of height, in playing childhood,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With hearts encircled, on the beechen tree,<br /> +Dear one, I carved thy name, but then thou wert with me.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>V.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Thou wert my nurse in many an hour of pain,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>My comforter in many an hour of sadness;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And when my spirit leaped to joy again,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thou wert the one who joyed most in its gladness.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Ay, more than nurse––and more than comforter––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thou taught’st my erring spirit not to err,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Gave it a softness nature had not given,<br /> +As now the blessed moon makes earth resemble heav’n.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>VI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>How deep the bitterness alone to grieve<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In grief’s deep hour––the death-watch of the night––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When Fancy can no more her day dreams weave,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And there seems madness in the moon’s pale light––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When sorrow holds us, like a life-long state,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Not as a portion, but the whole of fate,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When the mind yields, like sick men to their dreams,<br /> +Who know all is not right, yet know not that which seems.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>VII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Why come such thoughts across the brow? Oh, why<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Cannot the soul sit firmly on her throne,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And keep beside her strong Philosophy?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Alas! I am a wanderer and alone.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Beneath deep feeling reason’s self must sink;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>We cannot change the thought, yet we <i>must</i> think;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And, O! how darkly come such thoughts to me––<br /> +The gathered pangs of years, recounting agony.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>VIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Who has not felt, in such a night as this,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The glory and the greatness of a God,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And bowed his head, in humbleness, to kiss<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>His merciful and kindly chast’ning rod?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The far off stars! how beautiful and bright!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Peace seems abroad upon the world to-night;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And e’en the bubble, dancing on the stream,<br /> +Is glittering with hope,––a dream––a very dream!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>IX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>In sickness and in sorrow, how the breast<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Will garner its affections in their home!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like stricken bird that cowers within its nest,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And feels no more an anxiousness to roam;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While a thick darkness, like a cloud, comes o’er<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The gallant spirit;––it can rise no more<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To wing its way, as if it sought the sky,<br /> +But falls to earth, forlorn, as though it fell to die.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>X.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And yet, there is a torturing sense of life,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>E’en in the feeling of the quick drawn breath,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That tells of many years of woe and strife,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Ekeing our being out, though bringing death:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While Fancy, with a thousand thronging tales,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Now in her gladness, now in woe, prevails,––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Till the dark moment of o’erwhelming grief,<br /> +When sorrow mourns as one who cannot find relief.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Is health returnless? Never more may I<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Throw by the staff on which, alas! I lean?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Is the woof woven of my destiny?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Shall I ne’er be again what I have been?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And must th’ bodily anguish be combined<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With the intenseness of the anxious mind?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The fever of the fame and of the soul,<br /> +With no medicinal draught to quell it or control.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Upon my brow I feel the furrow’s course,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Deep sinking inward to the source of thought;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The deeper sinking if I seek its source,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Or try to crush its agony, unsought,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>O! tell thy secret, thou stern vampyre, Care!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>E’en for Philosophy thou hast a snare,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>For in thy quest she wears the galling chain,<br /> +Making the burden more, the more she’d soothe its pain.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Sweet solace of the life-lorn! <span class='smcap'>Hope!</span> to thee<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How oft in loneliness the heart will turn,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To quell the pang of its keen misery;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While wailing sorrow weeps o’er memory’s urn:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Rise from the ashes of my buried years!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The past comes up with overflowing tears,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To quench the promises that would arise:––<br /> +They’re in the future far––where are they?––in the skies!<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>My hopes, e’en my hopes, wither; a dark cloud<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Has passed between them and the glorious sun,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Clothing the breathing being in a shroud––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The pall is o’er them and their race is run:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Their epitaph is written in my heart––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The all of mem’ry that can ne’er depart––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Yes, it is here! the truth of every dream,<br /> +The ever-present thought, in every varying theme.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>O! who can pierce the cloud that o’er him lowers?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>It were as vain my wayward fate to scan;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Enough, ’twill come with th’ onhurrying hours––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The futile purpose or the settled plan:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Or Death, perchance, e’en now each tie may sever!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There’s many a grave in this bright rolling river,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That’s bounding onward where the one I love,<br /> +To meet my coming, now, on its far banks may rove.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And, but that thou would’st feel a pang for me,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Twere sweet, methinks, to sleep beneath the wave;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Its murmuring song, like sweetest minstrelsy,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Would rest a wanderer in an early grave,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Within thee, River, many a pale face sleeps––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And many a redman’s ghost his vigil keeps––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And many a maid has watched the dark banks over––<br /> +He comes not, yet, in truth, he was a faithful lover.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>For then, perchance, thy stream ran red with blood,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then pale and red men met upon thy shore––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Embracing foes they sunk within the flood,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Fierce twins in death, and joined forevermore,––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Forevermore in time. Eternity!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span><i>Thy</i> doom we see not, and we may not see,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But God is just! to Him the red race fly,<br /> +Driv’n to the pathless West, thence upward to the sky.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Here once Boone trod––the hardy Pioneer––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The only white man in the wilderness:<a name='FNanchor_0003' id='FNanchor_0003'></a><a href='#Footnote_0003' class='fnanchor'>[3]</a><br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh! how he loved, alone, to hunt the deer,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Alone, at eve, his simple meal to dress;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No mark upon the tree, nor print, nor track,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To lead him forward, or to guide him back;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He roved the forest, king by main and might,<br /> +And looked up to the sky and shaped his course aright.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>That mountain, there, that lifts its bald high head<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Above the forest, was, perchance, his throne;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There has he stood and marked the woods outspread,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like a great kingdom, that was all his own;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In hunting shirt and moccassins arrayed,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With bear skin cap, and pouch, and needful blade,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How carelessly he leaned upon his gun!<br /> +That sceptre of the wild, that had so often won.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Those western Pioneers an impulse felt.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Which their less hardy sons scarce comprehend;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Alone, in Nature’s wildest scenes, they dwelt,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where crag, and precipice, and torrent blend,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And stretched around the wilderness, as rude<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>As the red rovers of its solitude,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who watched their coming with a hate profound,<br /> +And fought with deadly strife for every inch of ground.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>To shun a greater ill sought they the wild?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No! they left happier lands behind them far,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And brought the nursing mother and her child<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To share the dangers of the border war;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The log-built cabin from the Indian barred,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Their little boy, perchance, kept watch and ward,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While Father ploughed with rifle at his back,<br /> +Or sought the glutted foe through many a devious track.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>How cautiously, yet fearlessly, that boy<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Would search the forest for the wild beast’s lair,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And lift his rifle with a hurried joy<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>If chance he spied the Indian lurking there:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And should they bear him prisoner from the fight,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While they are sleeping in the dead midnight,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He slips the thongs that bind him to the tree,<br /> +And leaving death with them, bounds home right happily.<a name='FNanchor_0004' id='FNanchor_0004'></a><a href='#Footnote_0004' class='fnanchor'>[4]</a><br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Before the mother, bursting through the door,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The redman rushes where her infants rest;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh God! he hurls them on the cabin floor!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While she, down kneeling, clasps them to her breast.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How he exults and revels in her woe,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And lifts the weapon, yet delays the blow:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Ha! that report! behold! he reels! he dies!<br /> +And quickly to her arms the husband––father––flies.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>In the long winter eve, their cabin fast,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The big logs blazing in the chimney wide––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>They’d hear the Indian howling, or the blast,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And deem themselves in castellated pride:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then would the fearless forester disclose<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Most strange adventures with his sylvan foes,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of how his arts did over theirs prevail,<br /> +And how he followed far upon their bloody trail.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And it was happiness, they said, to stand,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When summer smiled upon them in the wood,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And see their little clearing there expand,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And be the masters of the solitude.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Danger was but excitement; and when came<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The tide of Emigration, life grew tame;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then would they seek some unknown wild anew,<br /> +And soon, above the trees, the smoke was curling blue.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Long e’er the pale-face knew them, or their land,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Here, too, the redmen met in the stern strife<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of foe to foe and bloody hand to hand––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The mortal agony of life for life:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How fertile is this “dark and bloody ground!”<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Here Death has given many a horrid <a name='TC_1'></a><ins title="Added missing footnote tag">wound!<a name='FNanchor_0005' id='FNanchor_0005'></a><a href='#Footnote_0005' class='fnanchor'>[5]</a></ins><br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Here was the victim tortured to the stake,<br /> +While dark Revenge stood by, his burning thirst to slake.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Methinks I see it all within yon dell,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where trembles thro’ the leaves the clear moonlight;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Say, Druid Oak, can’st not the story tell?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Why met they thus? and wherefore did they fight?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And wept his maiden much? and who was he,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who thus so calmly bore his agony?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Sang he his death song well? was he a chief?<br /> +And mourned his nation long in notes of lengthened grief?<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Here, from the woods, he came to woo his mate,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And launched, to meet her, his bark-built canoe:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who would have thought he had a soul to hate<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To see him thus, all gentleness to woo?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In tenderest tone he tells his deeds of war,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With blandest feeling shows the ghastly scar<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He joyed to take, that he might win his bride,<br /> +His own, his blushing one––the dark-eyed by his side.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Again he goes––again she looks for him––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>At the death-stake her warrior-love is tied:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Say, when he thought of her, did the tear swim?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Shook, for an instant, that bold Indian’s pride?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No! when he thought of her, it was to nerve<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A soul whose purpose knew not how to swerve!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>For this she loves him, holds him doubly dear;<br /> +He knows what ’tis to love, but not what ’tis to fear.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>O, Love what rhymer has not sung of thee?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And, who, with heart so young as his who sings,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Knows not thou art self-burdened as the bee,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who, loving many flowers, must needs have wings?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Yes, thou art wing’d, O, Love! like passing thought,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That now is with us, and now seems as nought,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Until deep passion stamps thee in the brain,<br /> +Like bees in folded flowers that ne’er unfold again.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Who does not love his early dream of love?––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The passionate fondness of the happy boy,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When woman’s lightest look the pulse would move<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To the wild riot of extatic joy;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The tremulous whisper, mingling hopes and fears,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span><i>Her</i> very presence, that so long endears<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The spot, on which the mutual vow was giv’n,<br /> +The interchange of love, and the on-looking Heav’n.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>This is the tale that never tires in telling––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>If woman listens as ye tell the tale:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And then, to mark her gentle bosom swelling,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And feel the fervor of your faith prevail!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Her tone, the confidence of her bright eye,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That looks to yours its eloquent reply!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And then, her seeming doubt––spoke you in vain?<br /> +O! no! she only doubts to hear you speak again!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>My Mary! though I yet am young in years,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Tis like a dream, Love, of the olden time,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When first they coyness yielded up its fears,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And thy warm heart throbb’d tremblingly to mine,––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When we exchanged the faith we loved to make,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And made the promise it should never break––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How happy, then, the future rose to view––<br /> +Our hearts the auguries that made it seem all true.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>A sense of coldness, like the atmosphere,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When chilled by the rude winter’s snowy blast,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Has passed between us now: and––lone and sear,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like the last autumn leaf that fell at last,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Though on its parent stem it fain would stay,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With days, perchance, as bright as yesterday––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Our hopes have fallen––yet, my Mary, yet,<br /> +There is no lethean power can teach me to <a name='TC_2'></a><ins title="Was 'foreget'">forget</ins>.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>For, in that young affection’s early dream,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There was the presence and the soul of joy,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Which, like the stars, though clouds obscure them, beam<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With hues of Heav’n, that earth cannot destroy:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Dark desolation may be o’er our path,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And the fierce lightnings rive it in their wrath,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And scalding tears may weep their sources dry,<br /> +Yet, will that love live on, on its own agony.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>E’en like––if we its hopes may personate––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Fall’n Marius, ’mid the ruins, when he stood<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And pondered darkly o’er his desperate fate,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Alone, in th’ o’erthrown City’s solitude.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh! we may build a fairy home for love––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But, when ’tis blasted, how can we remove?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How from the ruins can the ruined part?<br /> +Or how rebuild the hope that, falling, crushed the heart.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And, mused I now, as that stern exile mused,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Mid fallen columns, cities overthrown,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With Desolation all around diffused,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I should seem less than I seem now alone––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>For it would be companionship; but here<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There is no sympathy with mortal tear:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The skies are smiling, and the forests rise<br /> +In their green glory up, aspirers to the skies!––<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And the wild river, laughing, laves its banks––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A babbler––like a happy-hearted girl,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Dancing along with free and frolic pranks;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The leaves, o’erhanging, tremble like the curl<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That plays upon her forehead as she goes––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While ’mid the branches, free from human woes,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The wild bird carols to its happy mate,<br /> +Glad in the present hour, nor anxious for its fate.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XXXIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>But there is one tree blasted ’mid the green,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Surrounding forest; and an eagle, there,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Looks sadly o’er the gaily, glitt’ring scene,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A mourner––with his bleeding bosom bare:––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No more! no more! he’ll reach his eyry now,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Or sport in triumph o’er the mountain’s brow;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>His wing may hide the death-bolt as he dies,<br /> +No more shall it expand to bear him to the skies.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XL.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>How like the balmy breathing of the spring,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Is the unfolding of Love’s happy morn!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then our nurst hopes, anticipating, bring<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The May-day breaking, that shall bear no thorn:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The thorn must have its birth-day with the rose––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When one is blighted, still the other grows,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And grows the keener, as the seared leaves fall,<br /> +And rankles in the heart when the storm scatters all.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Be blessings on thee, Lady of my love!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>As many blessings as thou did’st impart,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When to my breast thou cam’st like a young dove,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And made thy home in my all-happy heart.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like the loved picture of his buried maid,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Which the sad lover keeps, and weeps the shade,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>So Memory, to my early feelings true,<br /> +Preserves its passionate love in bidding hope adieu!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>No! “while there’s life there’s hope,” at least, in love;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Hope that the two shall not be always twain:––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Will it not find its home––that parted dove––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Though severed far o’er mountain and o’er main?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Though night o’ertake it, though the tempests rise,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Alike, through cloudy, and through smiling skies,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Onward it hastens; and, with panting breast,<br /> +Nestles at home at last, and loves the more its nest.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Built o’er the Indian’s grave, the city, here,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To all the pomp of civic pride is giv’n,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While o’er the spot there falls no tribute-tear,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Not e’en his kindred drop––the dew of Heav’n.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How touching was the chieftain’s homily!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That none would mourn for him when he should die;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Soon shall the race of their last man be run––<br /> +Then who will mourn for them? Alas! not one––not one!<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>They all have passed away, as thou must pass,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who now art wandering westward where they trod––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>An atom in the mighty human mass,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who live and die. No more. The grave-green sod,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Can but be made the greener o’er the best,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A flattering epitaph may tell the rest––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While they who come, as come these onward waves,<br /> +Forget who sleep below, and trample on their graves.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Yet, who, that ever trod upon this shore,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Since the rude red man left it to his tread,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thinks not of him, and marks not, o’er and o’er,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The contrast of the living with the dead?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There the tall forest falls––that Indian mound<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Will soon be levelled with the ploughed-up ground––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where stands that village church, traditions hold,<br /> +The war-whoop once rang loud o’er many a warrior cold.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Where stole the paddle-plied and tottering bark<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Along the rough shores cragg’d and sedgy side,––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where the fierce hunter, from the forest dark,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Pursued the wild deer o’er the mountains wild,––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Now towering cities rise on either hand,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And Commerce hastens by to many a strand,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Not on her white wings, as upon the sea––<br /> +Yet borne as bravely on, and spreading liberty.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And here, where once the Indian mother dwelt,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Cradling her infant on the blast-rocked tree,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Feeling the vengeance that her warrior felt,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And teaching war to childhood on her knee––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Now dwells the christian mother: O! <i>her</i> heart<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Has learned far better the maternal part––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Yet, in deep love, in passion for her child,<br /> +Who has surpass’d thine own, wild woman of the wild?<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Our homes, and hearts, and Nature, the blue sky,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Breathe these affections into all who live––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The flowings of their fountains cannot dry.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who gave us life? ’Tis He, who bids them live!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And they have lived, here, in this forest-bower,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In all the strength, the constancy, the power,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The deep devotion, the unchanging truth<br /> +Of Eden’s early dawn, when Time was in his youth.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XLIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>How patient was that red man of the wood!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Not like the white man, garrulous of ill––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Starving! who heard his faintest wish for food?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Sleeping upon the snow-drift on the hill!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who heard him chide the blast, or say ’twas cold?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>His wounds are freezing! is the anguish told?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Tell him his child was murdered with its mother!<br /> +He seems like carved out stone that has no woe to smother.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>L.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>With front erect, up-looking, dignified––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Behold high Hecla in eternal snows!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Yet, while the raging tempest is defied,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Deep in its bosom how the pent flame glows!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And when it bursts forth in its fiery wrath!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How melts the ice-hill from its fearful path,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>As on it rolls, unquench’d, and all untam’d!––<br /> +Thus was it with that chief when his wild passions flam’d.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Nature’s own statesman, by experience taught,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He judged most wisely, and could act as well;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With quickest glance could read another’s thought,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>His own, the while, the keenest could not tell;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Warrior––with skill to lengthen, or combine,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Lead on, or back, the desultory line;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Hunter––he passed the trackless forest through,––<br /> +Now on the mountain trod, now launch’d the light canoe.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>To the Great Spirit, would his spirit bow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With hopes that Nature’s impulses impart;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Unlike the Christian, who just says his vow<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With heart enough to say it all by heart.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Did we his virtues from his faults discern,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Twould teach a lesson that we well might learn:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>An inculcation worthiest of our creed,<br /> +To tell the simple truth, and do the promised deed.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>How deeply eloquent was the debate,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Beside the council fire of those red men!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With language burning as his sense of hate;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With gesture just, with eye of keenest ken;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With illustration simple, but profound,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Drawn from the sky above him, or the ground<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Beneath his feet; and with unfalt’ring zeal,<br /> +He spoke from a warm heart and made e’en cold hearts feel.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And this is Eloquence. ’Tis the intense,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Impassioned fervor of a mind deep fraught<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With native energy, when soul and sense<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Burst forth, embodied in the burning thought;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When look, emotion, tone, are all combined––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When the whole man is eloquent with mind––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A power that comes not to the call or quest,<br /> +But from the gifted soul, and the deep feeling breast.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Poor Logan had it, when he mourned that none<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Were left to mourn for him;––’twas his who swayed<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The Roman Senate by a look or tone;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Twas the Athenian’s, when his foes, dismayed,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Shrunk from the earthquake of his trumpet call;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Twas Chatham’s, strong as either, or as all;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Twas Henry’s holiest, when his spirit woke<br /> +Our patriot fathers’ zeal to burst the British yoke.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Isle of the beautiful! how much thou art,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Now in thy desolation, like the fate<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of those who came in innocence of heart,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With thy green Eden to assimilate:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then Art her coronal to Nature gave,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To deck thy brow; Queen of the onward wave!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And woman came, the beautiful and good,<br /> +And made her happy home ’mid thy embracing flood.<a name='FNanchor_0006' id='FNanchor_0006'></a><a href='#Footnote_0006' class='fnanchor'>[6]</a><br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Alas! another came: his blandishment,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The fascination of his smooth address,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That read so well the very heart’s intent,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And could so well its every thought express,––<a name='FNanchor_0007' id='FNanchor_0007'></a><a href='#Footnote_0007' class='fnanchor'>[7]</a><br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Won thy fair spirits to his dark design,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And gave our country, too, her Cataline.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He lives––the Roman traitor dared to die!<br /> +Yet, in their different fates, behold the homily.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Rome, torn by civil feuds and anarchy,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Could not endure a traitor on her heart––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>For ready Faction, with her argus eye,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Was ever watchful when to play her part;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And Freedom, with a nightmare on her breast,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But show’d she liv’d by groaning when opprest;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And even Cato’s energy to save,<br /> +Preserved her, but awhile, to sink upon her grave.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Far different with our Country! mark the time<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When she threw off her trans-atlantic yoke––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Throughout the wide domain of her fair clime,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But one high soldier from his promise broke:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In that free gathering who would not enroll<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With all the patriot’s willingness of soul?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Our fathers fought for sacred home and hearth!<br /> +And were too young in crime to think of treason’s birth.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And when the war had passed, and Freedom raised<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Her temple to her worshippers, to bless<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Those who had lit her altar fires, that blazed<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To light the far untrodden wilderness,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>All felt the worship, all confessed the God,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>All knew the tyrant, and all curs’d his rod––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And if one heart fell from his promise then,<br /> +Why, he might live like Cain, scorned of his fellow men.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>The Cain of Nations! be that sov’reignty,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That shall, for any purpose, seek to sever<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The glorious union of the brave and free––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>That, but for treason, will endure forever!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Her curse shall be the base redeemless lot<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of the once free, who feel that they are not––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who tread their native soil as native slaves,<br /> +And build their bondage house on their free fathers’ graves.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>In such a state, would not a Cæsar rise,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And chain the nation to his gory car,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And pluck from out the blue of our bright skies,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To form his diadem, that falling star?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then, one by one, each brilliant light would fall,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And primal chaos desolate them all––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While Tyranny, with loud prophetic shout,<br /> +Would wave his bloody sword, as each and all went out!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>That free born spirit who could rouse again?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The dried-up fountain and the scorched up field.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The breath, that withers mountain, flood, and plain,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To Nature’s revolution learn to yield:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>As strong as ever, man may tread the soil,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And sweat for others at his daily toil––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But how shall he regain the gift unbought,<br /> +The privilege to act the high resolve of thought?<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'><a name='TC_3'></a><ins title="Was 'XLIV'">LXIV</ins>.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Say, how shall he regain it, when ’twas giv’n<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With broken vow, apostatizing breath?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How stand erect, how look to the bright Heav’n,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Cloth’d in the darkness of that moral death?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Her rights down trod, her star-lit banner rent,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>O! where could Freedom find an armament?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>How gather, in their glory and their pride,<br /> +Her own grey father-band, who, for her, nobly died.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>United hearts have made united States!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>What could a single, separate State have done<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Without the arms of her confederates?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Without their glorious leader, <span class='smcap'>Washington</span>!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>They stand united, but divided fall––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Twas union that gave liberty to all!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then, who would call mad Discord from her cell,<br /> +To scatter poisons there where the world’s manna fell!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Proud Venice, by her Doge’s solemn rite,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Was wedded to the wave o’er which she rose:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thence came her lions’ all-surpassing might––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A greatness that ’twas glory to oppose.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A peaceful pomp proclaimed her nuptial bands:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Our Country’s bond of States, and hearts and hands,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Was signed and sealed before a world amazed,<br /> +While, for her nuptial torch, red Battle’s bacon blaz’d!<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>It was a bloody sacrament: Death came<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Unto the bridal, like a bidden guest,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The Priestess, <span class='smcap'>Freedom</span>, had but bless’d the flame,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>E’er the fierce furies to the revel press’d:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The storm grew dark––its lightning flash’d afar––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Murder and Rapine leagu’d themselves with War;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Yet, proudly and triumphantly, on high,<br /> +That eagle-guarded banner waved to victory.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>How fiercely flew that eagle o’er the plain!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then, Albion, sunk thy lion’s lordly crest;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Behold! again he shakes his brist’ling mane––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There is a serpent in that eagle’s nest,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Seeking to sting her, in the feint to help,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And give her free brood to the lion’s whelp––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>She strikes the reptile, headless down to earth––<br /> +And thus may Treason die, let who will give it birth!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Last of the Signers! a good night to thee!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Alas! that such brave spirits must depart:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Peace to thy ashes––to thy memory<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A monument in every living heart.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>It gives the spirit strength, endurance, pride,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A lofty purpose, unto thine allied,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span><a name='TC_4'></a><ins title="Original errata. Was 'No'">To</ins> muse upon thy glory––’tis to stand,<br /> +As ’twere, upon thy hearth, and hold thee by the hand.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And hear thee tell of thy illustrious peers<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who stood beside thee, for our country, there,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Fearless, amidst a host of pressing fears,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And calm, where even Courage might despair.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Ye staked, with this high energy indued,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>“Life, Fortune, Honor,” for the public good,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And made your “Declaration” to the world,<br /> +And, to the tyrant’s teeth, defiance sternly hurl’d.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Alas! the omen––in this awful hour,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While Discord and Disunion rend the land!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Did’st thou take with thee Freedom’s priceless dower?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Did’st thou resume the gift of thine own hand,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And bear the affrighted Goddess to the skies?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Are there no mourners o’er thy obsequies?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>None, who, with high resolves, approach thy grave?<br /> +Or––flits a spirit there, that frights the modern brave?<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Say, has our Capital no tarpeian height<a name='FNanchor_0008' id='FNanchor_0008'></a><a href='#Footnote_0008' class='fnanchor'>[8]</a><br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>From which to hurl the traitor? Standing now,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where once he stood, in patriotic might,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With the fresh laurel wreath upon his brow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And Freedom burning on his lip of flame;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Does Pity plead forgiveness for his shame?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then bear him thence, like Manlius, and be just––<br /> +Or go to Vernon’s shade, and desecrate its dust.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Soon must I mingle in the wordy war,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where Knavery takes in vice her sly degrees,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>As slip, away, not guilty, from the bar,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Counsel, or client, as their Honors please.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To breathe, in crowded courts, a pois’nous breath––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To plead for life––to justify a death––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To wrangle, jar, to twist, to twirl, to toil,––<br /> +This is the lawyer’s life––a heart-consuming moil.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And yet it has its honors; high of name<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And pure of heart, and eloquent of tongue,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Have kindled, there, with a most holy flame,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While thousands on their glowing accents hung!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And be it mine to follow where they’ve led,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To praise, if not to imitate, the dead––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To hail their lustre, like the distant star<br /> +Which the sad wayworn bless, and follow from afar.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>My friends! how often, in our social talk,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Have we called up these names of spell-like power,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>As, arm in arm, we took the friendly walk,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Or lingered out the evening’s parting hour––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Or met at the debate, with joyous zest,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To test our strength, and each to do his best;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While pun and prank we gaily gave and took,<br /> +With friendship in each heart and pleasure in each look.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>I recollect it well, and lov’d the time,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When we were wont to meet: when last we met,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I parted from you for this western clime,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With the deep feeling never to forget.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In the quick bustle of the busy throng,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I feel that I shall miss ye, O! how long!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The generous hearts who mann’d my spirit on––<br /> +Who sooth’d me when I lost, and cheer’d me if I won.<a name='FNanchor_0009' id='FNanchor_0009'></a><a href='#Footnote_0009' class='fnanchor'>[9]</a><br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Away! why should I muse in unsooth’d sadness!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While the gay sky is smiling upon earth,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like a young mother, o’er her infant’s gladness,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Blessing the early promise of its birth.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The opening day-dawn breaks along the land,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like glorious <span class='smcap'>Freedom</span>, as her hopes expand;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While the far mountains tower to meet the glow,<br /> +The altar fires are lit, burning on all below.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Oh! light up every land, till, far and free,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Their brave hearts come from mountain and from plain,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While, with the shout of onward liberty,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Old Earth to her foundation shakes again.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The night is gone!––thus Tyranny recedes!––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The sky is cloudless!––<span class='smcap'>Freedom!</span>––like thy deeds:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A gladness beams o’er earth, and main, and Heav’n––<br /> +Thus look the nations up, their chains, their chains are riv’n.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Kingdoms are falling! thrones––that have withstood<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The earthquake and the tempest in their shock,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And brav’d the host of battle’s fiery flood,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Making of human rights the merest mock,<a name='FNanchor_0010' id='FNanchor_0010'></a><a href='#Footnote_0010' class='fnanchor'>[10]</a><br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of blood, of agony, of human tears,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The daily sacrifice of countless years––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Are falling: may they fall on every shore,<br /> +As fell the fiend from Heav’n, no more to rise––no more.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Greece gathers up again her glorious band!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With <span class='smcap'>Freedom’s</span> loud hurra the Andes quake!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>It swells, like ocean’s wave, from land to land––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Bless them, our Father! for thy children’s sake.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>They strike the noblest who shall strike the first––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Wailing and prostrate, Tyranny accurst,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Convulses earth with his fierce agonies;<br /> +But, if ye strike like men, the fell dictator dies!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>A tear for Poland! many tears for her<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who rose so nobly, and so nobly fell!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>E’en at her broken shrine, a worshipper,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In dust and ashes, let me say farewell!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Farewell! brave spirits!––Earth! and can it be,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thy sons beheld them struggling to be free––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Unaided, saw them in their blood downtrod––<br /> +Nations, ye are accurst! be merciful, Oh God!<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>My <span class='smcap'>Home</span>! it needs no prophet voice to tell<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thy coming glories; they are thronging fast,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like the enchantments of the Sybil’s cell,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Expanding brighter to the very last:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Fulfilling all the patriot’s burning vow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Be free forever my own land as now!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While the uprising nations hail thy star,<br /> +And strike, for freedom, that God-sanctioned war.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And they may fall––but who shall date thy end?<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Lo! all the past has giv’n its light to thee:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Expiring Rome, like a departing friend,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Gave solemn warning to thy liberty:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And e’en the empires, fabulously old<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In fruitful fable, have a moral told;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>What say their fallen kings and shrineless God?<br /> +There is no “right divine” in the fell tyrant’s rod!<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXIV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Thou learn’dst the lesson, long ago, my <span class='smcap'>Home</span>,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And taught’st it to a willing, wondering world,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When thy bright stars rose o’er the ocean’s foam,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And lit thy banner as it stood unfurl’d;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When, from thy farthest mountain to the sea,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>All rose to bless that banner and be free,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Where perch’d thy eagle, in victorious might,<br /> +While the proud, lordly lion fled in craven flight.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXV.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Thou hast my heart––and freely do I bow,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To bless thee, Freedom, on thy holiest shrine,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And give to thee devotion’s warmest vow;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh! let thy spirit mingle into mine:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thy temple is my country, whose far dome<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Circles as high as the Almighty’s home––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Here, ’mid the glories of Creation’s birth,<br /> +Thy altars spread around––this is my mother earth.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXVI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Glorious! most glorious! proudly let me stand,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With the rapt fervor of a Poet’s eye,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And pour my blessings on my native land;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh! for the gift to tell thy destiny,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And mould it to the telling––thou should’st rise,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Eternal, as the stars that bless thy skies,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And sparkle in thy banner––thou should’st be<br /> +All that thy brave hearts wish’d, who will’d thee to be free.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXVII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And no <a name='TC_5'></a><ins title="Was 'protentous'">portentous</ins>, fearful meteor, there,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Should blaze, and blacken, and create dismay,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Shaking fierce furies from its snaky hair;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>No!––thou should’st light the Nations on their way,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And be to them a watchword to fight well;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And should they fall, as Poland’s patriots fell.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh! cheer them with their exile-flag unfurl’d,<br /> +And give them freedom here, in her own Western world.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXVIII.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>Auspicious Time! unroll the scroll of years––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Behold our pious pilgrim fathers, when<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>They launch’d their little bark and braved all fears,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Those peril-seeking, freedom-loving men!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Bless thee, thou Stream! abiding blessings bless<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Thy farthest wave––Nile of the wilderness!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And be thy broad lands peopled, far and wide,<br /> +With hearts as free as his who now doth bless thy tide.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>LXXXIX.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>And may new States arise, and stretch afar,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In glory, to the great Pacific shore––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A galaxy, without a falling star––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Freedom’s own Mecca, where the world adore.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There may Art build––to Knowledge there be giv’n<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The book of Nature and the light of Heav’n;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>There be the Statesman’s and the patriot’s shrine,<br /> +And Oh! be happy there, the hearts that woo the Nine.<br /> + +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span><br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XC.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>There is a welcome in this Western Land<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like the old welcomes, which were said to give<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The friendly heart where’er they gave the hand;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Within this soil the social virtues live,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Like its own forest trees, unprun’d and free––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>At least there is one welcome here for me:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A breast that pillowed all my sorrows past,<br /> +And waits my coming now, and lov’d me first and last.<br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='center cg'>XCI.</p> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>It binds my Eastern to my Western home;<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then let me banish thoughts that sad would be:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Not like a leaf-borne insect on the foam,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>But like a bark upon a glorious sea––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A little bark, perchance, yet firm withal,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>’Midst bursting breakers that shall not appal––<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I’ll bide the coming of a brighter day,<br /> +Or, to the far off West, pass, like the past, away.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='center padtop'><span class='smcaplc'>FINIS.</span></p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +<a name='NOTES' id='NOTES'></a> +<h2>NOTES.</h2> +</div> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0001' id='Footnote_0001'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0001'>NOTE I.</a></p> +<p class='center'><i>“The Emigrant, or Reflections,” &c.</i></p> +<p>Mr. Hammond, in the notice which he was so kind as to take of this <span class='smcap'>Poem</span>, +suggested the alteration of the title from “Reflections” to “Reveries.” In +retaining the first title, I do not do so because I think it best, but merely +because it was the first title, and the one under which the extracts were +given.</p> +<p>It seems to the author, if he may dare to hazard the remark, that the stanza +in which he has attempted to write, has advantages over even the Spenserean +stanzas. He understands the latter to be that in which the Fairy +Queen, from whose author it takes its name––Beattie’s Minstrel, Thompson’s +Castle of Indolence, Byron’s Childe Harold, &c. &c., are written. +The following is a stanza of it, from Childe Harold:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>The starry fable of the Milky Way<br /> +Has not thy story’s purity; it is<br /> +A constellation of a sweeter ray,<br /> +And sacred nature triumphs more in this<br /> +Reverse of her decree, than in the abyss<br /> +Where sparkle distant worlds. Oh! holiest nurse!<br /> +No drop of that clear spring its way shall miss<br /> +To thy sire’s heart, replenishing its source<br /> +With life, as our free souls rejoin the Universe.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Here, the reader will perceive that, in a stanza of nine lines, there is a +necessity for the second, the fourth, the fifth, and the seventh lines to +rhyme together; and that the sixth, eighth and ninth lines must, also, +rhyme together. To make the stanza correct, with these complicated embarrassments +of rhyme, must not only cause great trouble, sometimes, to +the easiest versifier, but to succeed in doing so, critically, he must often +sacrifice a happy expression, a striking phrase, or a beautiful line. “Words +are things,” says Mirabeau; and, to the poet, they are things of potency. +They are at once tools and materials in his headwork.</p> +<p>Any one who has read Childe Harold, must have observed that even the +Lord of Poets, with all his powers of language, was often thus hampered, +and that, for the sake of preserving the force of an expression, or a striking +word, he used what are no rhymes at all, if Monk Lewis’ remark to +Scott, “that a bad rhyme is no rhyme,” be true.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<p>Whereas, by making the stanza of but eight lines and having the first +four lines to rhyme alternately, and the last four immediately, and by +having the concluding line an Alexandrine, as in the Spenserean stanzas, +the difficulty, arising from the necessity of having so many similar +rhymes, would be obviated, and the poet would have much greater facilities +in expressing himself well, without impairing the dignity or strength +of what might still be called, from its many resemblances, the Spenserean +stanzas; at the same time, the monotony would be avoided, of which criticism +has complained so much in the works of Pope and Goldsmith.</p> +<p>Very few readers of poetry, in the first poems which they open, are fond +of those, no matter how great their merits, which are written in the Spenserean +stanzas. They have to acquire a taste for it. They delight in +simpler styles: this is one reason of Scott’s great popularity with many +persons who seldom read any other poet, except perhaps, Burns. And +even to those who have a natural taste for poetry, but who have not much +cultivated it, the Spenserean stanza seems complicated, and, I will even +venture to say, at first untunable; and it is not at the first perusal that +they perceive the beauties of those poems which are written in this style.</p> +<p>These remarks are hazarded very hastily. It would be much more +difficult for the author to build the complicated verse of the Spenserean +stanza, than this which he has attempted; and, therefore, perhaps, very +rashly, he concludes that it would be more difficult for others; and, moreover, +we easily persuade ourselves that what is most easily done it is best +to do.</p> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0002' id='Footnote_0002'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0002'>NOTE II.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“But thou art given by the good all-giver,<br /> +Blessing a land to be in turn most blest.”</i><br /> +<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span><i>Thou exulting and abounding river,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Making thy waves a blessing as they flow.</i><br /> +<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'><span class='smcap'>Byron.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0003' id='Footnote_0003'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0003'>NOTE III.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“Here once Boone trod––the hardy Pioneer––<br /> +The only white man in the wilderness.”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>In a late work entitled “Sketches of Western Adventure,” a most +interesting account is given of Boone, whose passion for a sylvan life was +intense. Like Leather-stocking, it would seem that he always got lost in +the clearing, and that only in the forest he knew his way and felt free +and unincumbered. Then, like McGregor, “standing on his native heath,” +he feared no difficulties or dangers. Byron, in his Don Juan, calls him +“The man of Ross run wild,” and says, that he “killed nothing but a +bear or buck,” but not so; he had many deadly encounters with the Indians, +and was repeatedly taken prisoner by them; but he effected his +escapes with great tact. The author of “Sketches of Western Adventure,” +speaking of him, alone in the wilderness, says,</p> +<p>“The wild and solitary grandeur of the country around him, where not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +a tree had been cut, nor a house erected, was to him an inexhaustible +source of admiration and delight; and he says himself, that some of the +most rapturous moments of his life were spent in those lonely rambles. +The utmost caution was necessary to avoid the savages, and scarcely less +to escape the ravenous hunger of the wolves that prowled nightly around +him in immense numbers. He was compelled frequently to shift his lodging, +and by undoubted signs, saw that the Indians had repeatedly visited +his hut during his absence. He sometimes lay in canebrakes, without +fire, and heard the yells of the Indians around him. Fortunately, however, +he never encountered them.”</p> +<p>Mr. John A. McClung is the author of the above mentioned work. This +gentleman is also the author of a novel, entitled “Camden,” which has +not received half the notice it deserved.</p> +<p>Mr. Flint has now in the press a life of Boone, which will soon be published. +I am indebted to him for the following graphic note, concerning +Boone:</p> +<p>“This extraordinary man, whose birth is said to have been in Maryland, +in Virginia, and in North Carolina, was in fact born in neither; but +in Pennsylvania, in Buck’s County, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. +When he was three years old, his father removed to a water of the +Schuylkill, not far from Reading. When he was thirteen years old, his +father removed thence to the South <a name='TC_6'></a><ins title="Changed period to comma">Yadkin,</ins> North Carolina; and in the +midst of the bushy hills of that State the character of this Nimrod was +developed.</p> +<p><a name='TC_7'></a><ins title="Added quote">“No</ins> historical facts are better attested, than those, to which allusion is +here made. The native sagacity, the robust hardihood, the invincible +courage and spirit of endurance, put forth on all occasions by the pioneer +of Kentucky, were, perhaps, never surpassed by any character on record. +These traits were admirably balanced and relieved by a disposition +peculiarly mild and gentle. In his old age he removed from Kentucky to +the banks of the Missouri. The portrait of him in the capitol is said not +to be a correct likeness. He was of the middle stature, of prodigious +strength and swiftness, with sandy hair, and a bright complexion, a bold, +prominent forehead, aquiline nose and compressed lips. There was a +peculiar brightness, an unquenchable elasticity and force visible in his +forehead and his eye, even under the frost of eighty winters. His old age +was not cheered by affluence, but his departure was neither unhonored, nor +unsung. No American character seems to have more chained interest +and attention. His life constitutes the theme of Mr. Bryant’s ‘Mountain +Muse,’ and he is one among the few, whom lord Byron honored with unalloyed +eulogy, in seven or eight of the happiest stanzas of Don Juan.”</p> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0004' id='Footnote_0004'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0004'>NOTE IV.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span><i>And should they bear him prisoner from the fight,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While they are sleeping, in the dead midnight,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>He slips the thongs that bind him to the tree,<br /> +And leaving death with them, bounds home right happily.</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The reader is referred to “Sketches of Western Adventure,” page 309, +for a most interesting account of the escape of two small boys from the +Indians.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></div> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0005' id='Footnote_0005'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0005'>NOTE V.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“How fertile is this ‘dark and bloody ground!’<br /> +Here Death has given many a horrid wound.”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Kentucky was called the “dark and bloody ground” by the Indians, in +consequence of many of the fiercest contests having occurred there; it +was the common hunting ground of many of the tribes, and here they +frequently met in their excursions, scarcely ever without bloodshed.</p> +<p>At my request, I was kindly furnished with the annexed note by Judge +Hall, on the subject of Indian mounds, which should have been inserted +under the passage which alludes to them; but the reference at the proper +place being accidentally omitted, it is given here. Judge Hall will readily +imagine why the author has omitted some passages of the note, which to +himself were not the least pleasing.</p> +<p>This gentleman has lately become a citizen of Cincinnati, where those, +who knew him formerly but by his high reputation, now feel how much +courtesy and kindness increase its charm.</p> +<p>Judge Hall is of opinion that most of the mounds are natural; speaking +of them he says:</p> +<p>“There are few objects so well calculated to strike the poetic imagination +as these mounds, standing alone in the wilderness. The belief that +they are the workmanship of human hands, awakens curiosity and leads +to a long train of reflections. For if men have thrown up these singular +elevations, we feel inquisitive to know by whom, and for what purpose, +they were erected. They are large and numerous; and they bear every +mark of great antiquity. Indeed, I am of opinion, that they are as old as +the hills.</p> +<p><a name='TC_8'></a><ins title="Added quote">“Supposing</ins> them to be artificial, we are led into a vast field of conjecture. +Were they made by the present race of savages, who are ignorant of all +the mechanic arts, and disinclined to labor? If so, what inducement +could have been placed before them, sufficiently powerful, to break down the +barriers of nature, and bring men habitually indolent, to so herculean +a task? The Indian, as we see him now, never works. He is the sovereign +of the woods, and strides over his heritage with the step of a master, +and the wild glance of one who disdains employment. He submits to no +restraint but that of military discipline.</p> +<p><a name='TC_9'></a><ins title="Added quote">“Viewing</ins> them as artificial, nothing can be more curious; and whether +we suppose them to have been graves, or temples, or fortifications, they +are equally calculated to awaken feelings of wonder, if not of awe. We +see them in the wilderness, where, for ages, savage men alone have dwelt, +and we behold them covered with majestic oaks, which have flourished for +centuries. They have existed here in the silence and repose of the forest, +unchanged amid the revolutions which have been carried on around them. +They are among the few records of the past. A people ignorant of writing, +painting, or sculpture, destitute of the mechanic arts, and without +any knowledge of the use of metals, have left few memorials; unless we +see them in the mounds, we might, perhaps, say none.</p> +<p><a name='TC_10'></a><ins title="Added quote">“If</ins> we suppose them to be natural, which, in my opinion, is the most +rational belief, as to the majority of the mounds, they are still attractive, +as natural curiosities, and as displaying a wonderful exhibition of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +creative power. Beheld in any light, they are interesting. Whatever +may have been their origin, they adorn the monotony of western scenery, +and afford employment to the fancy of the traveller. The plodding foot +may tread carelessly over them, the uninquiring eye may pass them, unheeded; +but the poet and philosopher linger around the hallowed spot +where they stand, to catch inspiration, or to gather wisdom from these +silent memorials.”</p> +<p>Judge Hall further says, “satisfied I am that if ever any rational hypothesis, +in relation to these interesting remains of past ages, shall be +invented, we shall owe it to the inspiration of the poet, and not to the +researches of the philosopher.”</p> +<p>It is very certain that no one can confront the traveller who may be +speculating upon these mounds, as Edie Ochiltree did the Antiquary, with +“I mind the bigging o’ it.”</p> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0006' id='Footnote_0006'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0006'>NOTE VI.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span><i>“Isle of the beautiful! how much thou art,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Now, in thy desolation, like the fate<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Of those who came in innocence of heart<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With thy green Eden to assimilate:<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Then Art her coronal to Nature gave<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>To deck thy brow, Queen of the onward wave!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>And woman came, the beautiful and good,<br /> +And made her happy home ’mid thy embracing flood.”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The allusion, here, is to Blennerhasset’s Island, which is beautifully +situated in the Ohio. The romantic story of its former inhabitants makes +it a spot of great interest to the Emigrant, who, in descending the river, +never fails to request that it may be pointed out to him; and it is often +the topic of conversation and conjecture to him and his companions for +hours after they have passed it. The author is indebted to Morgan Neville, +Esq., for the following account of the Island and its unfortunate +owner. Mr. Neville’s admirable tale of Mike Fink, and his other sketches, +have created in the public an appetite for more, which they have long +hoped he would be induced to gratify, with longer and more frequent +productions; or, at least, that he would collect what he has written into a +volume.</p> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Blennerhasset’s Island.</span>––How many recollections of mingled pleasure +and pain, does the name of this once beautiful spot, call to mind! In +descending the Ohio, I never come in sight of the Island, without sensations +almost too powerful to bear; and I linger on the deck of the boat, +until the point below snatches it from view. The first impressions were +made on me in early youth, and time cannot efface them; on the contrary, +the long vista through which I look back to this western <a name='TC_11'></a><ins title="Changed to single quotes">‘Eden,’</ins> +presents it, probably, with exaggerated colorings of beauty and loveliness. +The traveller, as he wanders over the grounds, once consecrated by +philanthropy, cannot reconcile it with probability, that a proud mansion, +a quarter of a century since, was here erected, dedicated to hospitality, +where a priestess, in the person of an elegant and refined lady, shed an +influence around that attracted to its portal the stranger from every +country. In looking at a scene, now desolate and repulsive, he can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +scarcely credit the fact, that, within that period, the same place was +embellished by gardens, groves, and arbors, upon which taste was exhausted, +and which cost a fortune to realize. The villa of Blennerhasset +was really a beacon-light in the wilderness, that seemed created to invite +the approach of the stranger to enjoy that repose which the sluggish and +comfortless mode of travelling of that day, rendered so gratifying. The +only sounds now heard, are the sighing of the wind through the lofty +cotton wood, or the puffing of steam, as some boat rushes rapidly past the +prosperous settlement of Bellepre. There was a time when music of a +less melancholy character breathed upon the ear; when a master hand +swept the chords, and science and taste directed the scene.</p> +<p>Herman Blennerhasset and his accomplished wife have sat for many a +picture; but, after all, Fancy, alone, guided the pencil, and the originals +have never been truly sketched. The reality of their history possesses +sufficient interest, without the aid of fiction, to enlist the sympathies of +the most romantic. Born to fortune, and nobly connected, Blennerhasset +stood in the front rank of Irish society. Educated for the bar, he distinguished +himself on many occasions, and he was the assistant counsel, with +Curran, in the celebrated trial of Hamilton Rowan. But his disposition +was restless, his mind visionary, and, doubtless, he felt sincerely for the +degraded state of his country. Notwithstanding his close relationship to +the aristocracy of Ireland, and the glaring unfitness of his character for +scenes of daring and of danger, he connected himself with the leading +yeomen of that day, and became the intimate associate and co-adjutor of +Arthur O’Conner. He continued to labor in the cause of Liberty, until +the eyes of Government were turned upon him; the result is a matter of +public history: O’Conner was arrested, and Blennerhasset escaped. He +had the good fortune, however, to secure a considerable portion of his +property, and, accompanied by his accomplished wife, an English lady, he +arrived in New York <a name='TC_12'></a><ins title="Was 'iu'">in</ins> 1796 or ’97, with what, in this country, was +esteemed a large fortune.</p> +<p>He was, however, a visionary; he knew nothing of human nature, +nothing of the practical business of life. With considerable literary +acquirements, and much pretensions to science, he gave himself up to all +the reveries and schemes of modern philosophy; with Southey, Godwin, +and the whole class, he was continually dreaming about the perfectibility +of human nature, and believed that innocence was alone to be found in +that portion of humanity, which approached the nearest to the state of +nature. With these notions, which he succeeded, in some measure, in +imparting to his young and interesting partner, he declined establishing +himself in any of our Atlantic cities, then the only places in the Union +offering attractions to a foreigner of taste and fortune, and turned his +attention, to the magnificent solitudes of the West. He purchased a portion +of the Island in Virginia, near the mouth of the Little Kenhawa, +which has been consecrated by his misfortunes, and executed those embellishments +which have since become the theme of many a fanciful +speech and tale.</p> +<p>Considering himself a second Capac, he set about acquiring an influence +over the rude inhabitants of the Virginia shores, which might enable him +to test the efficiency of his favorite system. But his exertions were abortive, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +and he became convinced of the folly of his early speculations on +human nature; his unsophisticated scholars, affecting to admire him, +overreached him on all occasions, and then laughed at him. He embarked +in commercial speculations; this proved a failure, and he stopped in time +to save a portion of the large fortune which, a few years before, he brought +from Europe. He recanted, in bitterness of feeling, his early political +principles, and began to sigh for the charms of refined society. Discontent +stole into his domestic circle, and the idea of educating his two interesting +boys in the desert became insupportable.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>Oh! quantum est in rebus in ave!</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>During this state of feeling, Colonel Burr presented himself, armed +with all the fascinations of manners and address, which so eminently +distinguished him. He soon became the ruler of the destiny of the +Island pair, and unfolded to them, with resistless eloquence, his magnificent +project of the conquest of Mexico, gilding his own ambition under +the plausible motive of relieving enslaved millions from the thraldom of +Spanish tyranny. The idea of becoming prominent members of a court +that would rival the ancient splendor of Montezuma, and the modern +glory of Napoleon, absorbed every other feeling. The remains of this +once large fortune were embarked in the scheme, and ruin and misery +were the consequence. What he felt and saw as but a misdemeanor, was +distorted, by political rancor, into treason; and, although one of the most +enlightened juries that were ever empanelled, pronounced an acquittal, +Blennerhasset was left destitute of means, and blasted in reputation. He +attempted to retrieve his affairs as a cotton planter, but was unsuccessful; +he afterwards removed to Montreal, to resume his profession. Within a +few years he has returned to England, the outlawry against him having +been removed; and those who feel an interest in the history of this persecuted +family, may be gratified to know that their decline of life will not +be devoid of comfort. They reside near Bath, in England, with a sister of +Blennerhasset, the relict of the late admiral De Courcy. The evening of +life promises to close free from those clouds that so long lowered over +them.</p> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0007' id='Footnote_0007'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0007'>NOTE VII.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“Alas! another came,” &c.</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>See Mr. Wirt’s character of Colonel Burr, in his great speech against +him. It was scarcely necessary to refer to this speech, as it is in the +mouth of every school boy.</p> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0008' id='Footnote_0008'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0008'>NOTE VIII.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“Say, has our Capital no Tarpeian height<br /> +From which to hurl the traitor?”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>These lines were written in the excitement which prevailed during the +session of the last Congress, when the Nullifiers were fulminating their +doctrines of disunion and prophesying the downfall of the Republic, when +he, who has not yet lost all his original brightness, was acting a part +which Milton has described.</p> +<p>This may account for what now may be deemed harshness.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span></div> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0009' id='Footnote_0009'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0009'>NOTE IX.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span><i>“I recollect it well, and loved the time,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>When we were wont to meet: when last we met<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I parted from you for this western clime,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With the deep feeling never to forget.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>In the quick bustle of the busy throng,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I feel that I shall miss ye, O! how long!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>The generous hearts who mann’d my spirit on––<br /> +Who sooth’d me when I lost and cheer’d me when I won.”</i></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>I have both rhyme and reason for remembering my young friends of +Baltimore. More frank, fearless, and generous spirits, it has not been +my lot to meet: social companions, firm friends, and with highly cultivated +minds, they possess an <i>esprit du corps</i> which gives such qualities their +strongest attractions. They have made Baltimore to me the “city of the +soul.”</p> +<p class='center padtop'><a name='Footnote_0010' id='Footnote_0010'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0010'>NOTE X.</a></p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><i>“Making of human rights the merest mock.”</i><br /> +The fiend’s arch mock.<br /></p> +<p class='ralign cg'><span class='smcap'>Shakspeare.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='ERRATA' id='ERRATA'></a> +<h2>ERRATA.</h2> +</div> +<p>In <a href='#TC_4'>Stanza 69, 7th line</a>, read <i>To</i> for <i>No</i>.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class="trnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber Notes</b></p> +<p>Table of Contents added.</p> +<p>Typographical inconsistencies have been changed and are +<ins title="Was 'hgihligthed'">highlighted</ins> and +listed below.</p> +<p>The original text has also had its errata incorporated.</p> +<p>Archaic and variable spelling and hyphenation is preserved.</p> +<p>Author’s punctuation style is preserved, except where noted.</p> +<p class='padtop'><b>Transcriber Changes</b></p> +<p>The following changes were made to the original text:</p> +<p><a href='#TC_1'>Page 17</a>: Added missing footnote tag (Here Death has given many a horrid <b>wound![5]</b>)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_2'>Page 20</a>: Was ’foreget’ (There is no lethean power can teach me to <b>forget</b>.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_3'>Page 30</a>: Stanza number was ’XLIV’ (<b>LXIV</b>. Say, how shall he regain it, when ’twas giv’n)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_5'>Page 38</a>: Was ’protentous’ (And no <b>portentous</b>, fearful meteor, there, should blaze, and blacken, and create dismay)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_6'>Page 43</a>: Changed period to comma (When he was thirteen years old, his father removed thence to the South <b>Yadkin,</b> North Carolina;)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_7'>Page 43</a>: Added beginning quote (<b>“No</b> historical facts are better attested, than those, to which allusion is here made.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_8'>Page 44</a>: Added beginning quote (<b>“Supposing</b> them to be artificial, we are led into a vast field of conjecture.)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_9'>Page 44</a>: Added beginning quote (<b>“Viewing</b> them as artificial, nothing can be more curious;)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_10'>Page 44</a>: Added beginning quote (<b>“If</b> we suppose them to be natural, which, in my opinion, is the most rational belief)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_11'>Page 45</a>: Changed to single quotes (the long vista through which I look back to this western <b>‘Eden,’</b> presents it)</p> +<p><a href='#TC_12'>Page 46</a>: Was ’iu’ (accompanied by his accomplished wife, an English lady, he arrived in New York <b>in</b> 1796 or ’97)</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0727 --> +<!-- timestamp: Mon Aug 03 22:34:03 -0400 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Emigrant, by Frederick William Thomas + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMIGRANT *** + +***** This file should be named 29606-h.htm or 29606-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/6/0/29606/ + +Produced by Bryan Ness, Katherine Ward, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from scans of public domain works at the +University of Michigan's Making of America collection.) + + +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. 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