Choice Specimens of American Literature, and Literary Reader · Chapter 307=387.= Lines on Crossing the Alleghanies
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I hail thee, Valley of the West, For what thou yet shalt be! I hail thee for the hopes that rest Upon thy destiny! Here from this mountain height, I see Thy bright waves floating rapidly, Thine emerald fields outspread; And feel that in the book of fame, Proudly shall thy recorded name In later days be read.
Oh! brightly, brightly glow thy skies In Summer's sunny hours! The green earth seems a paradise Arrayed in summer flowers! But oh! there is a land afar, Whose skies to me all brighter are, Along the Atlantic shore! For eyes beneath their radiant shrine In kindlier glances answered mine: Can these their light restore?
Upon the lofty bound I stand, That parts the East and West; Before me lies a fairy land; Behind—a home of rest! Here, Hope her wild enchantment flings, Portrays all bright and lovely things, My footsteps to allure— But there, in memory's light I see All that was once most dear to me— My young heart's cynosure!
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=Francis S. Osgood, 1812-1850= (Manual, p. 523.)
=388.= "The Parting."
I looked not, I sighed not, I dared not betray The wild storm of feeling that strove to have way, For I knew that each sign of the sorrow I felt Her soul to fresh pity and passion would melt, And calm was my voice, and averted my eyes, As I parted from all that in being I prize.
I pined but one moment that form to enfold. Yet the hand that touched hers, like the marble was cold,— I heard her voice falter a timid farewell, Nor trembled, though soft on my spirit it fell, And she knew not, she dreamed not, the anguish of soul Which only my pity for her could control.
It is over—the loveliest dream of delight That ever illumined a wanderer's night! Yet one gleam of comfort will brighten my way, Though mournful and desolate ever I stray: It is this—that to her, to my idol, I spared The pang that her love could have softened and shared!
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=Harriet Beecher Stowe.= (Manual, p. 484.)
From the "Religious Poems."