GERTRUDE OF WYOMING.

PART II.

1.

A VALLEY from the river shore withdrawn
Was Albert's home, two quiet woods between,
Whose lofty verdure overlooked his lawn;
And waters to their resting place serene
Came freshening, and reflecting all the scene:
(A mirror in the depth of flowery shelves;)
So sweet a spot of carth, you might (I ween)
Have guessed some congregation of the elves,

To sport by summer moons, had shaped it for themselves

II.

Yet wanted not the eye far scope to muse,
Nor vistas opened by the wandering stream;
Both where at evening Alleghany views,
Through ridges burning in her western beam,
Lake after lake interminably gleam :

And past those settlers' haunts the eye might roam
Where earth's unliving silence all would seem;
Save where on rocks the beaver built his dome,
Or buffalo remote lowed far from human home.

III.

But silent not that adverse eastern path,
Which saw Aurora's hills th' horizon crown;
There was the river heard, in bed of wrath,
(A precipice of foam from mountains brown,)
Like tumults heard from some far distant town;
But softening in approach he left his gloom,
And murmured pleasantly, and laid him down
To kiss those easy curving banks of bloom,
That lent the windward air an exquisite perfume.

IV.

It seemed as if those scenes sweet influence had
On Gertrude's soul, and kindness like their own
Inspired those eyes affectionate and glad,

That seemed to love whate'er they looked upon;
Whether with Hebe's mirth her features shone,
Or if a shade more pleasing them o'ercast,
(As if for heavenly musing meant alone;)

Yet so becomingly th' expression past,

That each succeeding look was lovelier than the last.

V.

Nor guess I, was that Pennsylvanian home,
With all its picturesque and balmy grace,

And fields that were a luxury to roam,

Lost on the soul that looked from such a face!
Enthusiast of the woods! when years apace
Had bound thy lovely waist with woman's zone,
The sunrise path, at morn, I sce thee trace
To hills with high magnolia overgrown,

And joy to breathe the groves, romantic and alone.

VI.

The sunrise drew her thoughts to Europe forth,
That thus apostrophized its viewless scene:

"Land of my father's love, my mother's birth! The home of kindred I have never seen!

We know not other oceans are between:

Yet say, far friendly hearts! from whence we came, Of us does oft remembrance intervene ?

My mother sure my sire a thought may claim;But Gertrude is to you an unregarded name.

VII.

"And yet, loved England! when thy name I trace In many a pilgrim's tale and poet's song, How can I choose but wish for one embrace

Of them, the dear unknown, to whom belong

My mother's looks, perhaps her likeness strong?

Oh, parent! with what reverential awe,

From features of thine own related throng,

An image of thy face my soul could draw!

And see thee once again whom I too shortly saw!"

VIII.

Yet deem not Gertrude sighed for foreign joy;
To soothe a father's couch her only care,
And keep his reverend head from all annoy :
For this, methinks, her homeward steps repair,
Soon as the morning wreath had bound her hair;
While yet the wild deer trod in spangling dew,
While boatman carolled to the fresh-blown air,
And woods a horizontal shadow threw,
And early fox appeared in momentary view.

IX.

Apart there was a deep untrodden grot,

Where oft the reading hours sweet Gertrude wore;
Tradition had not named its lonely spot;

But here, methinks, might India's sons explore
Their fathers' dust, or lift, perchance of yore,

Their voice to the Great Spirit: - rocks sublime

To human art a sportive semblance bore,

And yellow lichens colored all the clime,

Like moonlight battlements, and tow'rs decayed by time.

X.

But high in amphitheatre above,

Gay-tinted woods their massy foliage threw :
Breathed but an air of heaven, and all the grove
As if instinct with living spirit grew,

Rolling its verdant gulfs of every hue;
And now suspended was the pleasing din,
Now from a murmur faint it swelled anew,
Like the first note of organ heard within
Cathedral aisles, - ere yet its symphony begin.

--

XI.

It was in this lone valley she would charm

The lingering noon, where flowers a couch had strewn;
Her cheek reclining, and her snowy arm
On hillock by the pine-tree half o'ergrown:
And aye that volume on her lap is thrown,
Which every heart of human mould endears;

With Shakspeare's self she speaks and smiles alone,

And no intruding visitation fears,

To shame the unconscious laugh, or stop her sweetest

tears.

XII.

And nought within the grove was heard or seen
But stock-doves plaining through its gloom profound,

Or winglet of the fairy humming-bird,
Like atoms of the rainbow fluttering round;
When lo there entered to its inmost ground
A youth, the stranger of a distant land;
He was, to weet, for eastern mountains bound;

But late th' equator suns his cheek had tanned,
And California's gales his roving bosom fanned.

XIII.

A steed, whose rein hung loosely o'er his arm,
He led dismounted; ere his leisure pace,
Amid the brown leaves, could her ear alarm,
Close he had come, and worshipped for a space
Those downcast features: - she her lovely face

Uplift on one, whose lineaments and frame

Wore youth and manhood's intermingled grace:
Iberian seemed his boot - his robe the same,

And well the Spanish plume his lofty looks became.

Has pointed where the father's mansion stood.

Returning from the copse he soon was there;
And soon has Gertrude hied from dark-green wood;
Nor joyless, by the converse, understood

Between the man of age and pilgrim young,

That gay congeniality of mood,

And early liking from acquaintance sprung;

Full fluently conversed their guest in England's tongue

XV.

And well could he his pilgrimage of taste

Unfold,- and much they loved his fervid strain,
While he each fair variety retraced

Of climes, and manners, o'er the eastern main.
Now happy Switzer's hills, romantic Spain,
Gay lilied fields of France, - or, more refined,
The soft Ausonia's monumental reign;

Nor less each rural image he designed

Than all the city's pomp and home of human kind.