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(Excerpt)
SHADOWED beneath those awful piles of stone, | |
| Where Liberty has found a Pisgah height, | |
| O’erlooking all the land she loves to bless, | |
| The jagged rocks and icy towers her guard, | |
| Whose splintered summits seize the warring clouds, | 5 |
| And roll them, broken, like a host o’erthrown, | |
| Adown the mountain’s side, scattering their wealth | |
| Of powdered pearl and liquid diamond drops,— | |
| There is thy source,—great River of the West! | |
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| Slowly, like youthful Titan gathering strength | 10 |
| To war with heaven and win himself a name, | |
| The stream moves onward through the dark ravines, | |
| Rending the roots of overarching trees, | |
| To form its narrow channel, where the star, | |
| That fain would bathe its beauty in the wave, | 15 |
| Like lover’s glance steals, trembling, through the leaves, | |
| That veil the waters with a vestal’s care; | |
| And few of human form have ventured there, | |
| Save the swart savage in his bark canoe. | |
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| But now it deepens, struggles, rushes on; | 20 |
| Like goaded war-horse, bounding o’er the foe, | |
| It clears the rocks it may not spurn aside, | |
| Leaping, as Curtius leaped adown the gulf, | |
| And rising, like Antæus from the fall, | |
| Its course majestic through the land pursues, | 25 |
| And the broad River o’er the Valley reigns! | |
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| It reigns alone. The tributary streams | |
| Are humble vassals, yielding to its sway. | |
| And when the wild Missouri fain would join | |
| A rival in the race,—as Jacob seized | 30 |
| On his red brother’s birthright, even so | |
| The swelling Mississippi grasps that wave, | |
| And, rebaptizing, makes the waters one. | |
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| It reigns alone,—and Earth the sceptre feels;— | |
| Her ancient trees are bowed beneath the wave, | 35 |
| Or, rent like reeds before the whirlwind’s swoop, | |
| Toss on the bosom of the maddened flood, | |
| A floating forest, till the waters, calmed, | |
| Like slumbering anaconda gorged with prey, | |
| Open a haven to the moving mass, | 40 |
| Or form an island in the dark abyss. | |
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| It reigns alone. Old Nile would ne’er bedew | |
| The lands it blesses with its fertile tide. | |
| Even sacred Ganges, joined with Egypt’s flood, | |
| Would shrink beside this wonder of the West! | 45 |
| Ay, gather Europe’s royal rivers all,— | |
| The snow-swelled Neva, with an empire’s weight | |
| On her broad breast, she yet may overwhelm; | |
| Dark Danube, hurrying, as by foe pursued, | |
| Through shaggy forests and from palace walls, | 50 |
| To hide its terrors in a sea of gloom; | |
| The castled Rhine, whose vine-crowned waters flow, | |
| The fount of fable and the source of song; | |
| The rushing Rhone, in whose cerulean depths | |
| The loving sky seems wedded with the wave; | 55 |
| The yellow Tiber, choked with Roman spoils, | |
| A dying miser shrinking ’neath his gold; | |
| And Seine, where Fashion glasses fairest forms; | |
| And Thames, that bears the riches of the world; | |
| Gather their waters in one ocean mass,— | 60 |
| Our Mississippi, rolling proudly on, | |
| Would sweep them from its path, or swallow up, | |
| Like Aaron’s rod, these streams of fame and song! | |
| And thus the peoples, from the many lands, | |
| Where these old streams are household memories, | 65 |
| Mingle beside our river, and are one, | |
| And join to swell the strength of Freedom’s tide, | |
| That from the fount of Truth is flowing on, | |
| To sweep earth’s thousand tyrannies away. | |
| How wise, how wonderful the works of God! | 70 |
| And, hallowed by his goodness, all are good. | |
| The creeping glowworm, the careering sun, | |
| Are kindled from the effluence of his light; | |
| The ocean and the acorn-cup are filled | |
| By gushings from the fountain of his love. | 75 |
| He poured the Mississippi’s torrent forth, | |
| And heaved its tide above the trembling land,— | |
| Grand type how Freedom lifts the citizen | |
| Above the subject masses of the world,— | |
| And marked the limits it may never pass. | 80 |
| Trust in his promises, and bless his power, | |
| Ye dwellers on its banks, and be at peace. | |
| And ye, whose way is on this warrior wave, | |
| When the swoln waters heave with ocean’s might, | |
| And storms and darkness close the gate of heaven, | 85 |
| And the frail bark, fire-driven, bounds quivering on, | |
| As though it rent the iron shroud of night, | |
| And struggled with the demons of the flood,— | |
| Fear nothing! He who shields the folded flower, | |
| When tempests rage, is ever present here. | 90 |
| Lean on “our Father’s” breast in faith and prayer, | |
| And sleep,—his arm of love is strong to save. | |
| Great Source of being, beauty, light, and love,— | |
| Creator,—Lord,—the waters worship thee! | |
| Ere thy creative smile had sown the flowers,— | 95 |
| Ere the glad hills leaped upward, or the earth, | |
| With swelling bosom, waited for her child,— | |
| Before eternal Love had lit the sun, | |
| Or Time had traced his dial-plate in stars,— | |
| The joyful anthem of the waters flowed; | 100 |
| And Chaos like a frightened felon fled, | |
| While on the deep the Holy Spirit moved. * * * * * | |
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