| |
(From Gertrude of Wyoming)
ON Susquehanna’s side, fair Wyoming! | |
| Although the wild-flower, on thy ruined wall | |
| And roofless homes a sad remembrance bring | |
| Of what thy gentle people did befall, | |
| Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of all | 5 |
| That see the Atlantic wave their morn restore. | |
| Sweet land! may I thy lost delights recall, | |
| And paint thy Gertrude in her bowers of yore, | |
| Whose beauty was the love of Pennsylvania’s shore. | |
| |
| Delightful Wyoming! beneath thy skies | 10 |
| The happy shepherd swains had naught to do, | |
| But feed their flocks on green declivities, | |
| Or skim, perchance, thy lake with light canoe, | |
| From morn, till evening’s sweeter pastime grew, | |
| With timbrel, when beneath the forests brown, | 15 |
| The lovely maidens would the dance renew; | |
| And aye those sunny mountains half-way down | |
| Would echo flageolet from some romantic town. | |
| |
| Then, where on Indian hills the daylight takes | |
| His leave, how might you the flamingo see | 20 |
| Disporting like a meteor on the lakes, | |
| And playful squirrel on his nut-grown tree: | |
| And every sound of life was full of glee, | |
| From merry mock-bird’s song, or hum of men, | |
| While hearkening, fearing naught their revelry, | 25 |
| The wild deer arched his neck from glades, and then | |
| Unhunted, sought his woods and wilderness again. | |
| |
| And scarce had Wyoming of war or crime | |
| Heard but in transatlantic story sung, | |
| For here the exile met from every clime, | 30 |
| And spoke in friendship every distant tongue: | |
| Men from the blood of warring Europe sprung, | |
| Were but divided by the running brook; | |
| And happy where no Rhenish trumpet rung, | |
| On plains no sieging mine’s volcano shook, | 35 |
| The blue-eyed German changed his sword to pruning-hook. | |
| |
