| |
Lines Written in Illinois
FAMILIAR to the childish mind were tales | |
| Of rock-girt isles amid a desert sea, | |
| Where unexpected stretch the flowery vales | |
| To soothe the shipwrecked sailor’s misery. | |
| Fainting, he lay upon a sandy shore, | 5 |
| And fancied that all hope of life was o’er; | |
| But let him patient climb the frowning wall, | |
| Within, the orange glows beneath the palm-tree tall, | |
| And all that Eden boasted waits his call. | |
| |
| Almost these tales seem realized to-day, | 10 |
| When the long dulness of the sultry way, | |
| Where independent settlers’ careless cheer | |
| Made us indeed feel we were strangers here, | |
| Is cheered by sudden sight of this fair spot, | |
| On which improvement yet has made no blot, | 15 |
| But Nature all astonished stands, to find | |
| Her plan protected by the human mind. | |
| |
| Blest be the kindly genius of the scene: | |
| The river, bending in unbroken grace; | |
| The stately thickets, with their pathways green; | 20 |
| Fair lonely trees, each in its fittest place. | |
| Those thickets haunted by the deer and fawn; | |
| Those cloudlike flights of birds across the lawn; | |
| The gentlest breezes here delight to blow, | |
| And sun and shower and star are emulous to deck the show. | 25 |
| |
| Wondering, as Crusoe, we survey the land; | |
| Happier than Crusoe we, a friendly band: | |
| Blest be the hand that reared this friendly home, | |
| The heart and mind of him to whom we owe | |
| Hours of pure peace such as few mortals know; | 30 |
| May he find such, should he be led to roam,— | |
| Be tended by such ministering sprites,— | |
| Enjoy such gayly childish days, such hopeful nights. | |
| And yet, amid the goods to mortals given, | |
| To give those goods again is most like Heaven. | 35 |
| |
