COMPLAINING flow the waters slow
Along the valley green and low;
The lilies dight in virgin white
Float fragrant in the ardent light,
And to the gossip ripples say,
“It is the Day!—is’t not the Day?
When comes the bridal train this way?”
Along the valley green and low;
The lilies dight in virgin white
Float fragrant in the ardent light,
And to the gossip ripples say,
“It is the Day!—is’t not the Day?
When comes the bridal train this way?”
Yon amethystine hill-top kist
By lingering enamored mist,
Hears in the sky warm zephyrs sigh
To wooing clouds that dally by;
The wandering whispers seem to say,
“Is’t not the Day?—it is the Day!
Why comes no bridal train this way?”
By lingering enamored mist,
Hears in the sky warm zephyrs sigh
To wooing clouds that dally by;
The wandering whispers seem to say,
“Is’t not the Day?—it is the Day!
Why comes no bridal train this way?”
TO THE LITTLE MIAMI RIVER.
ROMANTIC the rocky and fern-scented regions,
Miami, the grots where thy rambles begin,
By cedars and hemlocks, in evergreen legions,
With silence and twilight seclusion shut in.
Miami, the grots where thy rambles begin,
By cedars and hemlocks, in evergreen legions,
With silence and twilight seclusion shut in.
There darkling recesses in miniature mountains
Recall to my fancy the haunts of the gnome;
There fabled Undina might rise from the fountains,
Or sport in the waterfalls’ glistening foam.
Recall to my fancy the haunts of the gnome;
There fabled Undina might rise from the fountains,
Or sport in the waterfalls’ glistening foam.
Now laughing in ripples and dancing the sedges,
Now fretting the minnows in eddy and whirl,
Now kissing the pebbles that sprinkle thy edges,
And laving the pearl and the mother-of-pearl;
Now fretting the minnows in eddy and whirl,
Now kissing the pebbles that sprinkle thy edges,
And laving the pearl and the mother-of-pearl;
Glide, whispering now under sycamore shadow,
Now singing by hamlet and cottage and mill,
Now shimmering onward through flowery meadow,
Now glassing the image of foresty hill.
Now singing by hamlet and cottage and mill,
Now shimmering onward through flowery meadow,
Now glassing the image of foresty hill.
The farm boy, as careless he follows the harrow
O’er lowlands which quicken and ripen the maize,
Reads oft in some token of stone,—axe or arrow,
The wars and the loves of unchronicled days.
O’er lowlands which quicken and ripen the maize,
Reads oft in some token of stone,—axe or arrow,
The wars and the loves of unchronicled days.
IMMORTAL BIRDSONG.
WHAT though mine ear hath never heard
The wing’d voice of the sky?
Nor listened to the love-lorn bird
Whose plaints in darkness die?
The wing’d voice of the sky?
Nor listened to the love-lorn bird
Whose plaints in darkness die?
The poets improvise for me
Lark-notes that never fail,
And make more sweet than sound can be
The song of nightingale.
Lark-notes that never fail,
And make more sweet than sound can be
The song of nightingale.
From rapt Alastor’s lyric leaves
Joy’s flying carol springs!
On darkling pinion sorrow grieves
When Adonais sings.
Joy’s flying carol springs!
On darkling pinion sorrow grieves
When Adonais sings.
HINCHMAN’S MILL.
LONELY by Miami stream,
Gray in twilight’s fading beam,
Spectral, desolate and still,
Smitten by the storms of years,
Ah! how changed to me appears
Yonder long-deserted mill.
Gray in twilight’s fading beam,
Spectral, desolate and still,
Smitten by the storms of years,
Ah! how changed to me appears
Yonder long-deserted mill.
While the ruin I behold,
Mossy roof and gable old,
Shadowy mid obscuring trees,
Memory’s vision, quick and true,
Time’s long vista gazing through,
Unseen pictures dimly sees.
Mossy roof and gable old,
Shadowy mid obscuring trees,
Memory’s vision, quick and true,
Time’s long vista gazing through,
Unseen pictures dimly sees.
Sees upon the garner floor
Wheat and maize in golden store,—
Powdery whiteness everywhere,—
Sees a miller short and stout
Whistling cheerfully about,
Making merry with his care.
Wheat and maize in golden store,—
Powdery whiteness everywhere,—
Sees a miller short and stout
Whistling cheerfully about,
Making merry with his care.
Pleased, he listens to the whirr
Of the swift-revolving burr,
Deeming brief each busy hour;
Like a stream of finest snow,
Sifting to the bin below,
Fall the tiny flakes of flour.
Of the swift-revolving burr,
Deeming brief each busy hour;
Like a stream of finest snow,
Sifting to the bin below,
Fall the tiny flakes of flour.
Once my childish feet were led
Down some furtive way of dread,
Through yon broken floor to peer,
Where the fearful waters drift
In a current dark and swift,
Flying from the angry weir.
Down some furtive way of dread,
Through yon broken floor to peer,
Where the fearful waters drift
In a current dark and swift,
Flying from the angry weir.
Once, with timid step and soft,
Stealthily I climbed aloft,
Up and up the highest stair;—
Iron cogs were rumbling round,
Every vague and awful sound
Mocked and mumbled at me there.
Stealthily I climbed aloft,
Up and up the highest stair;—
Iron cogs were rumbling round,
Every vague and awful sound
Mocked and mumbled at me there.
VICTOR.
WHEN June exhaled her rose-sweet breath
And earth in sunshine smiled,
Untimely came intrusive Death
And stole away our child.
And earth in sunshine smiled,
Untimely came intrusive Death
And stole away our child.
As some fast-fading star declines,
Dissolving in the sky;
As wastes the dewdrop while it shines,
So did our darling die.
Dissolving in the sky;
As wastes the dewdrop while it shines,
So did our darling die.
Ah, fairer than the violet frail,
Frost-slain on April’s breast,
And purer than the lily pale,
The babe’s unbreathing rest.
Frost-slain on April’s breast,
And purer than the lily pale,
The babe’s unbreathing rest.
Our eyes grew numb with tearless woe,
Prayer swooned upon the tongue,
As to his lips of smiling snow
Our anguished kisses clung.
Prayer swooned upon the tongue,
As to his lips of smiling snow
Our anguished kisses clung.
O hapless Victor, name of pride!
Dear hands, poor little feet!
No thorn ye found, no path ye tried;—
O envious winding sheet!
Dear hands, poor little feet!
No thorn ye found, no path ye tried;—
O envious winding sheet!
Most mournful change and utter loss!
Return, my child, return!
Or, angels, guide my faith across
The grave his state to learn.
Return, my child, return!
Or, angels, guide my faith across
The grave his state to learn.
Oh, grant me from the vast unknown
Some breath of solacing!
The spirit! whither has it flown
On timorous alien wing?
Some breath of solacing!
The spirit! whither has it flown
On timorous alien wing?
All silent is the cruel sky;
The saints no pity lend;
My lamentation and my cry
To heedless void ascend.
The saints no pity lend;
My lamentation and my cry
To heedless void ascend.
My heart, my weeping, bleeding heart
Wails at the door of fate,
And faints in darkness and apart,
Bereft and desolate.
Wails at the door of fate,
And faints in darkness and apart,
Bereft and desolate.
I only find, wher’er I grope,
A cradle and a pall;
Find, at the gloomy verge of hope,
A grave—and that is all.
A cradle and a pall;
Find, at the gloomy verge of hope,
A grave—and that is all.
THE LAST FLIGHT.
LO, in my path
A frozen songbird lies,
A victim of the sky’s
Blind, elemental wrath.
A frozen songbird lies,
A victim of the sky’s
Blind, elemental wrath.
The stolid year
Shall not in me repress
The impulsive tenderness
That moves a pitying tear.
Shall not in me repress
The impulsive tenderness
That moves a pitying tear.
Life’s flutter o’er,
Thy quavering heart, now still,
No more shall throb and thrill,
Shall love and fear no more.
Thy quavering heart, now still,
No more shall throb and thrill,
Shall love and fear no more.
For thee in vain
Shall Spring array the woods,
In nest-safe neighborhoods:—
Thou canst not build again.
Shall Spring array the woods,
In nest-safe neighborhoods:—
Thou canst not build again.
Did instinct fail
When, from the Boreal rack,
Athwart thy migrant track
Hurtled the ruthless gale?
When, from the Boreal rack,
Athwart thy migrant track
Hurtled the ruthless gale?
A cruel nest
The feather-mocking snows!
And ah, what gasping throes
Assailed thy dying breast!
The feather-mocking snows!
And ah, what gasping throes
Assailed thy dying breast!
Wing-spent, alone,
Adrift from every mate,
Flung down by baffling fate,
Thou froze to the Unknown.
Adrift from every mate,
Flung down by baffling fate,
Thou froze to the Unknown.
How saith the Word?
Does He who governs all
Take notice of the fall
Forlorn, of thee, poor bird?
Does He who governs all
Take notice of the fall
Forlorn, of thee, poor bird?
Mute traveler, say,
How fare we when we die,
And whither do we fly
Along the unseen way?
How fare we when we die,
And whither do we fly
Along the unseen way?
Vain questionings
In death’s bleak eddy whirled!
What heeds the other world
My broken, bleeding wings?
In death’s bleak eddy whirled!
What heeds the other world
My broken, bleeding wings?
Is life no more?
Is death the final doom?
Or shall the soul replume
Her flight and sing and soar?
Is death the final doom?
Or shall the soul replume
Her flight and sing and soar?
Yea, surely, He
Who melts my love to tears
For this dead songster, hears
And pities mine and me.
Who melts my love to tears
For this dead songster, hears
And pities mine and me.
A GENTLE MAN.
I KNEW a gentle Man;—
Alas! his soul has flown;
Now that his tender heart is still,
Pale anguish haunts my own.
His eye, in pity’s tear,
Would often saintly swim;
He did to others as he would
That they should do to him.
Alas! his soul has flown;
Now that his tender heart is still,
Pale anguish haunts my own.
His eye, in pity’s tear,
Would often saintly swim;
He did to others as he would
That they should do to him.
He suffered many things,—
Renounced, forgave, forbore;
And sorrow’s crown of thorny stings,
Like Christ, he meekly wore;
At rural toils he strove;
In beauty, joy he sought;
His solace was in children’s words
And wise men’s pondered thought.
Renounced, forgave, forbore;
And sorrow’s crown of thorny stings,
Like Christ, he meekly wore;
At rural toils he strove;
In beauty, joy he sought;
His solace was in children’s words
And wise men’s pondered thought.
INVIOLATE.
WE took a walk in Winter woods,
My little lad and I,—
The hills and hollows all were pearl,
And sapphire all the sky.
My little lad and I,—
The hills and hollows all were pearl,
And sapphire all the sky.
Before guerilla winds we saw
The skurrying drift retreat;
We thought of budded roots that lay
Asleep beneath our feet.
The skurrying drift retreat;
We thought of budded roots that lay
Asleep beneath our feet.
We spoke of how, last year, in May,
One sunny bank we found,
Where wind-flowers stood in fairy crowds,
To charm the gladdened ground.
One sunny bank we found,
Where wind-flowers stood in fairy crowds,
To charm the gladdened ground.
FAITH.
THE spreading circle of the known
That Science strives to bound with laws
Is but a glowing sparkle thrown
From God, the radiant central cause.
That Science strives to bound with laws
Is but a glowing sparkle thrown
From God, the radiant central cause.
His mystery is vaster far
Than knowledge is or e’er can be;
The wheel of Evolution’s car
Rolls onward through eternity.
Than knowledge is or e’er can be;
The wheel of Evolution’s car
Rolls onward through eternity.
PLATO.
ATHENIAN prophet of the soaring mind!
What new lamp burns so brightly as his old?
He changed Philosophy from dross to gold
By poet’s alchemy; and he combined
Egypt and Ind and the Hellenic States
With all the knowledge Cadmus’ letters hold,
In Logic’s crucible to be refined;
He opened Speculation’s splendid gates
To Western ways where Science after trod;
A reign of sweeter Ethics he foretold,
Renouncing Zeus for a diviner God;
And, unaffrighted by the awful Fates,
In starry sandals of Religion shod,
From pagan darkness Plato led mankind.
What new lamp burns so brightly as his old?
He changed Philosophy from dross to gold
By poet’s alchemy; and he combined
Egypt and Ind and the Hellenic States
With all the knowledge Cadmus’ letters hold,
In Logic’s crucible to be refined;
He opened Speculation’s splendid gates
To Western ways where Science after trod;
A reign of sweeter Ethics he foretold,
Renouncing Zeus for a diviner God;
And, unaffrighted by the awful Fates,
In starry sandals of Religion shod,
From pagan darkness Plato led mankind.
DANTE.
AFTER READING “PARADISO.”
HIS sacred Muse, on soaring rapture’s wings,
Aspired the radiant empyrean high,
And bore to earth the splendor of the sky!
Durante’s spirit to my senses brings
The excessive beauty of transcendent things
That thrill imagination’s ear and eye;
With joy I hear the blissful carolings
Of angel hosts in robes of dazzling white;
My soul partakes the poet’s ecstasy!
Through all my meditation and my prayer
Steals reminiscence of the Stream of Light,
And of the Rose unutterably fair,—
And O! the threefold glory of The One,
The Love that moves the circling stars and sun!
Aspired the radiant empyrean high,
And bore to earth the splendor of the sky!
Durante’s spirit to my senses brings
The excessive beauty of transcendent things
That thrill imagination’s ear and eye;
With joy I hear the blissful carolings
Of angel hosts in robes of dazzling white;
My soul partakes the poet’s ecstasy!
Through all my meditation and my prayer
Steals reminiscence of the Stream of Light,
And of the Rose unutterably fair,—
And O! the threefold glory of The One,
The Love that moves the circling stars and sun!
WAGNER’S KAISER MARCH.
TO THEODORE THOMAS.
WHAT diapasons from the hush profound
Thy magic wand, O Master, summons forth
To laud imperial Kaiser, robed and crowned!
Hail! multitudinous music of the North!
Titanic Wagner’s soul informs the sound!
Ho! instruments triumphant, trump and drum,
And cymbal clanging where the troopers come!
The Gothic valor now is set to score;
I hear the tramp of Saxon thought unbound,
The victor’s cry, disdaining death or wound,—
I hear the saber ring, the cannon roar!
This is the throbbing tune for Halfred’s rhyme,
The symphony of glorious war sublime,
Valhalla’s martial joy forevermore!
Thy magic wand, O Master, summons forth
To laud imperial Kaiser, robed and crowned!
Hail! multitudinous music of the North!
Titanic Wagner’s soul informs the sound!
Ho! instruments triumphant, trump and drum,
And cymbal clanging where the troopers come!
The Gothic valor now is set to score;
I hear the tramp of Saxon thought unbound,
The victor’s cry, disdaining death or wound,—
I hear the saber ring, the cannon roar!
This is the throbbing tune for Halfred’s rhyme,
The symphony of glorious war sublime,
Valhalla’s martial joy forevermore!
DEFOE IN THE PILLORY.
ON to the Pillory, ho!
To punish bold Daniel Defoe!
Come on to the place
Of shame and disgrace!
Bring rose-garlands sweet
To cast at his feet!
Fill glasses! Fill, ho!
Here’s to Daniel Defoe!
To punish bold Daniel Defoe!
Come on to the place
Of shame and disgrace!
Bring rose-garlands sweet
To cast at his feet!
Fill glasses! Fill, ho!
Here’s to Daniel Defoe!
On to the Pillory, ho!
To punish bold Daniel Defoe!
His fate he has earned,
His book we have burned,
That its soul may fly forth,
East, west, south and north!
Blow, trumpeter, blow!
Here’s to Daniel Defoe!
To punish bold Daniel Defoe!
His fate he has earned,
His book we have burned,
That its soul may fly forth,
East, west, south and north!
Blow, trumpeter, blow!
Here’s to Daniel Defoe!
WE THE PEOPLE.
WE the People, not the Crown,
Not the surplice nor the brand,
Noble’s crest nor schoolman’s gown,
Burse nor rostrum, grange nor town,—
We the People rule our land.
Not the surplice nor the brand,
Noble’s crest nor schoolman’s gown,
Burse nor rostrum, grange nor town,—
We the People rule our land.
We the People, not the Few,
High nor low nor middle class,
High and low and middle too,
Freemen, he and I and you,
We the multitude, the mass.
High nor low nor middle class,
High and low and middle too,
Freemen, he and I and you,
We the multitude, the mass.
Dumb we plodded feudal years,
Goaded by the lash of scorn;
Groaning, wept a sea of tears;
Lo! at last our day appears,
Dawn of the millennial morn!
Goaded by the lash of scorn;
Groaning, wept a sea of tears;
Lo! at last our day appears,
Dawn of the millennial morn!
Asia deemed our woe decreed,
Brahm nor Buddha heard our cry,
Europe heard with sullen heed,
Prince and Pontiff mocked our need,
Making Christ a bitter lie.
Brahm nor Buddha heard our cry,
Europe heard with sullen heed,
Prince and Pontiff mocked our need,
Making Christ a bitter lie.
Demagogue nor Demigod
Shall again control the World;
Man awoke! disdained the rod,
Spurned the despot whip and prod,
To the dust his rider hurled.
Shall again control the World;
Man awoke! disdained the rod,
Spurned the despot whip and prod,
To the dust his rider hurled.
Man has come unto his own;
Broken are his bands and bars;
Faith’s futurity foreknown
Domes a sky of promise sown
Thick with happy-omened stars.
Broken are his bands and bars;
Faith’s futurity foreknown
Domes a sky of promise sown
Thick with happy-omened stars.
Zealous, not iconoclast,
We would spare the ancient true;
Life in death is rooted fast;
And the fruitage of the Past
Is the Passing,—is the New.
We would spare the ancient true;
Life in death is rooted fast;
And the fruitage of the Past
Is the Passing,—is the New.
Azure blood and haughty crest,
Blazon of heraldic scroll,
Coin in coffer, star on breast,—
These are good, but better, best,
Is the rank, the wealth, of soul.
Blazon of heraldic scroll,
Coin in coffer, star on breast,—
These are good, but better, best,
Is the rank, the wealth, of soul.
Earth grows better growing old,
Still by happier races trod;
Plato’s iron men are gold;
Large humanities unfold;
Evolution’s law is—God.
Still by happier races trod;
Plato’s iron men are gold;
Large humanities unfold;
Evolution’s law is—God.
EIGHTY-SEVEN.
AS a mighty heart in a giant’s breast
With rhythmic beat
Sends marching from brain to feet
The crimson vigor of creative blood,
So, in the bosom of the brawny West,
So, in the stalwart breast of the Nation,
Throbs the Great Ordinance,—a heart,
A vital and organic part,
Propelling by its strong pulsation
The unremitting stream and flood
Of wholesome influences that give
Unto the body politic
The elements and virtues quick
Whereby Republics live.
With rhythmic beat
Sends marching from brain to feet
The crimson vigor of creative blood,
So, in the bosom of the brawny West,
So, in the stalwart breast of the Nation,
Throbs the Great Ordinance,—a heart,
A vital and organic part,
Propelling by its strong pulsation
The unremitting stream and flood
Of wholesome influences that give
Unto the body politic
The elements and virtues quick
Whereby Republics live.
THE FOUNDERS OF OHIO.
APRIL, 1888.
THE footsteps of a hundred years
Have echoed, since o’er Braddock’s Road
Bold Putnam and the Pioneers
Led History the way they strode.
Have echoed, since o’er Braddock’s Road
Bold Putnam and the Pioneers
Led History the way they strode.
On wild Monongahela stream
They launched the Mayflower of the West,
A perfect State their civic dream,
A new New World their pilgrim quest.
They launched the Mayflower of the West,
A perfect State their civic dream,
A new New World their pilgrim quest.
When April robed the Buckeye trees
Muskingum’s bosky shore they trod;
They pitched their tents and to the breeze
Flung freedom’s star-flag, thanking God.
Muskingum’s bosky shore they trod;
They pitched their tents and to the breeze
Flung freedom’s star-flag, thanking God.
FOREST SONG.
Read at the first meeting of the American Forestry Congress, in Music Hall, Cincinnati, April 19, 1882.
A SONG for the beautiful trees!
A song for the forest grand,
The Garden of God’s own hand,
The pride of His centuries.
Hurrah! for the kingly oak,
For the maple, the sylvan queen,
For the lords of the emerald cloak,
For the ladies in golden green.
A song for the forest grand,
The Garden of God’s own hand,
The pride of His centuries.
Hurrah! for the kingly oak,
For the maple, the sylvan queen,
For the lords of the emerald cloak,
For the ladies in golden green.
For the beautiful trees a song!
The peers of a glorious realm,
The linden, the ash, and the elm,
The poplar stately and strong,—
For the birch and the hemlock trim,
For the hickory staunch at core,
For the locust thorny and grim,
For the silvery sycamore.
The peers of a glorious realm,
The linden, the ash, and the elm,
The poplar stately and strong,—
For the birch and the hemlock trim,
For the hickory staunch at core,
For the locust thorny and grim,
For the silvery sycamore.
A song for the palm,—the pine,
And for every tree that grows,
From the desolate zone of snows
To the zone of the burning line;
Hurrah! for the warders proud
Of the mountainside and the vale,
That challenge the thunder-cloud,
And buffet the stormy gale.
And for every tree that grows,
From the desolate zone of snows
To the zone of the burning line;
Hurrah! for the warders proud
Of the mountainside and the vale,
That challenge the thunder-cloud,
And buffet the stormy gale.
A song for the forest, aisled,
With its Gothic roof sublime,
The solemn temple of Time,
Where man becometh a child,
As he listens the anthem-roll
Of the voiceful winds that call,
In the solitude of his soul,
On the name of the All-in-All.
With its Gothic roof sublime,
The solemn temple of Time,
Where man becometh a child,
As he listens the anthem-roll
Of the voiceful winds that call,
In the solitude of his soul,
On the name of the All-in-All.
A BALLAD OF OLD KENTUCKY.
WELL, this is my story of Schoolmaster John,
And how, single-handed, he slew
A terrible monster, one May day, at dawn,
When our staunch old Kentucky was new.
And how, single-handed, he slew
A terrible monster, one May day, at dawn,
When our staunch old Kentucky was new.
Full rude was the cabin, o’ershadowed by trees,
For the Lexington school-children made;
For, Cadmus forbid that the shrewd A-B-C’s
Be lost in the tanglewood shade!
For the Lexington school-children made;
For, Cadmus forbid that the shrewd A-B-C’s
Be lost in the tanglewood shade!
Alone sat the pedagogue, throned on a stool,
Entranced by poetical lore;
He waited and read, while the morning’s breath cool
Floated in through the wide-open door.
Entranced by poetical lore;
He waited and read, while the morning’s breath cool
Floated in through the wide-open door.
Bent over a magical page of the tome
That Vergil—how long ago!—wrote,
He mused of Æneas and Dido and Rome,
When a tiger-cat sprang at his throat!
That Vergil—how long ago!—wrote,
He mused of Æneas and Dido and Rome,
When a tiger-cat sprang at his throat!
Fight, fight! John McKinney, or perish! He fought!
Forgot was the Queen and her woe!
He uttered no cry; of the children he thought
As he grappled his terrible foe!
Forgot was the Queen and her woe!
He uttered no cry; of the children he thought
As he grappled his terrible foe!
Now which shall be victor, the brute or the man?
Hands battle against teeth and claws!
Survive the dread struggle the nature that can!
Savage might against letters and laws!
Hands battle against teeth and claws!
Survive the dread struggle the nature that can!
Savage might against letters and laws!
The beast by the master was throttled and crushed
On his desk, while its fangs stung his side;
With the crimsoning rill from his pulses that gushed,
The leaves of his Vergil were dyed.
On his desk, while its fangs stung his side;
With the crimsoning rill from his pulses that gushed,
The leaves of his Vergil were dyed.
Who fly to the rescue? Who scream with alarm?
Three scared little maidens! Then said
The schoolmaster, smiling, “No harm, dears, no harm!
I have caught you a wild-cat;—it’s dead.”
Three scared little maidens! Then said
The schoolmaster, smiling, “No harm, dears, no harm!
I have caught you a wild-cat;—it’s dead.”
And this is the story of pedagogue John
Of Kentucky, and how it befell
That, in the heroic old days that are gone,
He did what he had to do, well.
Of Kentucky, and how it befell
That, in the heroic old days that are gone,
He did what he had to do, well.
God set him his task in the woods of the West
To teach and to tame what was wild;
To give his heart’s love and the blood of his breast
For the good of the pioneer’s child.
To teach and to tame what was wild;
To give his heart’s love and the blood of his breast
For the good of the pioneer’s child.
JOHN FILSON.
Matthias Denman, Robert Patterson and John Filson laid out the town of Losantiville, now the city of Cincinnati, in 1788. Filson, schoolmaster and surveyor, went out to explore the woods between the Miamis, but never returned.
JOHN Filson was a pedagogue—
A pioneer was he;
I know not what his nation was
Nor what his pedigree.
A pioneer was he;
I know not what his nation was
Nor what his pedigree.
Tradition’s scanty records tell
But little of the man,
Save that he to the frontier came
In immigration’s van.
But little of the man,
Save that he to the frontier came
In immigration’s van.
Perhaps with phantoms of reform
His busy fancy teemed,
Perhaps of new Utopias
Hesperian he dreamed.
His busy fancy teemed,
Perhaps of new Utopias
Hesperian he dreamed.
John Filson and companions bold
A frontier village planned,
In forest wild, on sloping hills,
By fair Ohio’s strand.
A frontier village planned,
In forest wild, on sloping hills,
By fair Ohio’s strand.
John Filson from three languages
With pedant skill did frame
The novel word Losantiville
To be the new town’s name.
With pedant skill did frame
The novel word Losantiville
To be the new town’s name.
Said Filson: “Comrades, hear my words:
Ere three-score years have flown
Our town will be a city vast.”
Loud laughed Bob Patterson.
Ere three-score years have flown
Our town will be a city vast.”
Loud laughed Bob Patterson.
Still John exclaimed, with prophet-tongue,
“A city fair and proud,
The Queen of Cities in the West!”
Mat Denman laughed aloud.
“A city fair and proud,
The Queen of Cities in the West!”
Mat Denman laughed aloud.
Deep in the wild and solemn woods
Unknown to white man’s track,
John Filson went, one autumn day,
But nevermore came back.
Unknown to white man’s track,
John Filson went, one autumn day,
But nevermore came back.
He struggled through the solitude
The inland to explore,
And with romantic pleasure traced
Miami’s winding shore.
The inland to explore,
And with romantic pleasure traced
Miami’s winding shore.
Across his path the startled deer
Bounds to its shelter green;
He enters every lonely vale
And cavernous ravine.
Bounds to its shelter green;
He enters every lonely vale
And cavernous ravine.
Too soon the murky twilight comes,
The boding night-winds moan;
Bewildered wanders Filson, lost,
Exhausted, and alone.
The boding night-winds moan;
Bewildered wanders Filson, lost,
Exhausted, and alone.
By lurking foes his steps are dogged,
A yell his ear appalls!
A ghastly corpse, upon the ground,
A murdered man, he falls.
A yell his ear appalls!
A ghastly corpse, upon the ground,
A murdered man, he falls.
The Indian, with instinctive hate,
In him a herald saw
Of coming hosts of pioneers,
The friends of light and law;
In him a herald saw
Of coming hosts of pioneers,
The friends of light and law;
In him beheld the champion
Of industries and arts,
The founder of encroaching roads
And great commercial marts;
Of industries and arts,
The founder of encroaching roads
And great commercial marts;
The spoiler of the hunting-ground,
The plower of the sod,
The builder of the Christian school
And of the house of God.
The plower of the sod,
The builder of the Christian school
And of the house of God.
And so the vengeful tomahawk
John Filson’s blood did spill,—
The spirit of the pedagogue
No tomahawk could kill.
John Filson’s blood did spill,—
The spirit of the pedagogue
No tomahawk could kill.
John Filson had no sepulcher,
Except the wildwood dim;
The mournful voices of the air
Made requiem for him.
Except the wildwood dim;
The mournful voices of the air
Made requiem for him.
The druid trees their waving arms
Uplifted o’er his head;
The moon a pallid veil of light
Upon his visage spread.
Uplifted o’er his head;
The moon a pallid veil of light
Upon his visage spread.
The rain and sun of many years
Have worn his bones away,
And what he vaguely prophesied
We realize today.
Have worn his bones away,
And what he vaguely prophesied
We realize today.
Losantiville, the prophet’s word,
The poet’s hope fulfils,—
She sits a stately Queen to-day
Amid her royal hills!
The poet’s hope fulfils,—
She sits a stately Queen to-day
Amid her royal hills!
Then come, ye pedagogues, and join
To sing a grateful lay
For him, the martyr pioneer,
Who led for you the way.
To sing a grateful lay
For him, the martyr pioneer,
Who led for you the way.
JOHNNY APPLESEED.
A Ballad of the Old Northwest.
A MIDNIGHT cry appalls the gloom,
The puncheon door is shaken:
“Awake! arouse! and flee the doom!
Man, woman, child, awaken!
The puncheon door is shaken:
“Awake! arouse! and flee the doom!
Man, woman, child, awaken!
“Your sky shall glow with fiery beams
Before the morn breaks ruddy!
The scalpknife in the moonlight gleams,
Athirst for vengeance bloody!”
Before the morn breaks ruddy!
The scalpknife in the moonlight gleams,
Athirst for vengeance bloody!”
Alarumed by the dreadful word
Some warning tongue thus utters,
The settler’s wife, like mother bird,
About her young ones flutters.
Some warning tongue thus utters,
The settler’s wife, like mother bird,
About her young ones flutters.
Her first-born, rustling from a soft
Leaf-couch, the roof close under,
Glides down the ladder from the loft,
With eyes of dreamy wonder.
Leaf-couch, the roof close under,
Glides down the ladder from the loft,
With eyes of dreamy wonder.
The pioneer flings open wide
The cabin door, naught fearing;
The grim woods drowse on every side,
Around the lonely clearing.
The cabin door, naught fearing;
The grim woods drowse on every side,
Around the lonely clearing.
“Come in! come in! nor like an owl
Thus hoot your doleful humors;
What fiend possesses you, to howl
Such crazy, coward rumors?”
Thus hoot your doleful humors;
What fiend possesses you, to howl
Such crazy, coward rumors?”
The herald strode into the room;
That moment, through the ashes,
The back-log struggled into bloom
Of gold and crimson flashes.
That moment, through the ashes,
The back-log struggled into bloom
Of gold and crimson flashes.
The glimmer lighted up a face,
And o’er a figure dartled,
So eerie, of so solemn grace,
The bluff backwoodsman startled.
And o’er a figure dartled,
So eerie, of so solemn grace,
The bluff backwoodsman startled.
The brow was gathered to a frown,
The eyes were strangely glowing,
And, like a snow-fall drifting down,
The stormy beard went flowing.
The eyes were strangely glowing,
And, like a snow-fall drifting down,
The stormy beard went flowing.
The tattered cloak that round him clung
Had warred with foulest weather;
Across his shoulders broad were flung
Brown saddlebags of leather.
Had warred with foulest weather;
Across his shoulders broad were flung
Brown saddlebags of leather.
One pouch with hoarded seed was packed,
From Pennland cider-presses;
The other garnered book and tract
Within its creased recesses.
From Pennland cider-presses;
The other garnered book and tract
Within its creased recesses.
A glance disdainful and austere,
Contemptuous of danger,
Cast he upon the pioneer,
Then spake the uncouth stranger:
Contemptuous of danger,
Cast he upon the pioneer,
Then spake the uncouth stranger:
“Heed what the Lord’s anointed saith;
Hear one who would deliver
Your bodies and your souls from death;
List ye to John the Giver.
Hear one who would deliver
Your bodies and your souls from death;
List ye to John the Giver.
“Thou trustful boy, in spirit wise
Beyond thy father’s measure,
Because of thy believing eyes
I share with thee my treasure.
Beyond thy father’s measure,
Because of thy believing eyes
I share with thee my treasure.
“Of precious seed this handful take;
Take next this Bible Holy:
In good soil sow both gifts, for sake
Of Him, the meek and lowly.
Take next this Bible Holy:
In good soil sow both gifts, for sake
Of Him, the meek and lowly.
“Farewell! I go!—the forest calls
My life to ceaseless labors;
Wherever danger’s shadow falls
I fly to save my neighbors.
My life to ceaseless labors;
Wherever danger’s shadow falls
I fly to save my neighbors.
“I save; I neither curse nor slay;
I am a voice that crieth
In night and wilderness. Away!
Whoever doubteth, dieth!”
I am a voice that crieth
In night and wilderness. Away!
Whoever doubteth, dieth!”
The prophet vanished in the night,
Like some fleet ghost belated;
Then, awe-struck, fled with panic fright
The household, evil-fated.
Like some fleet ghost belated;
Then, awe-struck, fled with panic fright
The household, evil-fated.
They hurried on with stumbling feet,
Foreboding ambuscado;
Bewildered hope told of retreat
In frontier palisado.
Foreboding ambuscado;
Bewildered hope told of retreat
In frontier palisado.
But ere a mile of tangled maze
Their bleeding hands had broken,
Their home-roof set the dark ablaze,
Fulfilling doom forespoken.
Their bleeding hands had broken,
Their home-roof set the dark ablaze,
Fulfilling doom forespoken.
The savage death-whoop rent the air!
A howl of rage infernal!
The fugitives were in Thy care,
Almighty Power eternal!
A howl of rage infernal!
The fugitives were in Thy care,
Almighty Power eternal!
Unscathed by tomahawk or knife,
In bosky dingle nested,
The hunted pioneer, with wife
And babes, hid unmolested.
In bosky dingle nested,
The hunted pioneer, with wife
And babes, hid unmolested.
The lad, when age his locks of gold
Had changed to silver glory,
Told grandchildren, as I have told,
This western wildwood story.
Had changed to silver glory,
Told grandchildren, as I have told,
This western wildwood story.