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(Excerpt)
UPON a narrow river-flat | |
| The sunset falls in streaking glow; | |
| Here, the mown meadow’s velvet plat, | |
| And there, the buckwheat’s scented snow. | |
| A cluster of low roofs is prest | 5 |
| Against the mountain’s leaning breast. | |
| But each rude porch is closed and barred: | |
| For tenderest Youth and Age alone | |
| Are left those humble roofs to guard, | |
| Till Day resumes his blazing throne. | 10 |
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| Where deepest shade the forest flings, | |
| The hunters seek that forest’s game; | |
| Men tireless as the eagle’s wings, | |
| Of dauntless heart and iron frame. | |
| The sparkling Beaverkill beside, | 15 |
| Benighted in their wanderings wide, | |
| They merry dress the slaughtered deer, | |
| And make the twilight ring with cheer; | |
| Now chorus of the woods, now tale | |
| Of panther-fight and Indian trail, | 20 |
| Till the rude group, the camp-fire round, | |
| Crouch with their rifles, on the ground. | |
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| Where wide the branch-linked river spreads, | |
| Near rapids swift, a fairy isle, | |
| Three leagues above those mountain-sheds, | 25 |
| Looks like a sweet perpetual smile. | |
| The muskrat burrows in its sides, | |
| Down its steep slopes the otter slides; | |
| The splendid sheldrake, floating, feeds | |
| In his close haunts amid the reeds; | 30 |
| Around its sandy points, all day, | |
| Watches and wades the crane for prey; | |
| While show its shallows lily-robes | |
| Of heart-shaped leaves and golden globes. | |
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| Above the mountain hamlet, fade | 35 |
| Eve’s tints, and darkness spreads its shade; | |
| Their pointed tops the cedars rear | |
| Against the starlight bright and clear. | |
| Then come the many sounds and sights | |
| Usual in forest summer-nights: | 40 |
| At intervals, the flitting breeze | |
| Draws soft, low sobbings from the trees; | |
| From the deep woods, in transient float, | |
| Tinkles the whetsaw’s double note; | |
| The wakeful frog, unceasing, groans; | 45 |
| Twang the mosquito’s hungry tones, | |
| And echoing sweetly, on the hill, | |
| Whistles the sorrowing whippoorwill; | |
| From the cleft pine the gray owl hoots, | |
| Swells from the swamp the wolf’s long cry, | 50 |
| And, now and then, a meteor shoots | |
| And melts within the spangled sky. | |
| The firefly opes and shuts its gleam, | |
| The cricket chirps, the tree-toad crows; | |
| And hark! the cougar’s distant scream | 55 |
| Afar the mountain echo throws. * * * * * | |
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