The Hunter: And Other Poems (Google eBook)

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Cummings, Hilliard,, 1826 - 147 pages
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Page 123 - With watchful care, around these relics dear. If so, forgive the rude, unhallowed feet Which trod so thoughtless o'er your mighty dead. I would not thus profane their lone retreat, Nor trample where the sleeping warrior's head Lay pillowed on his everlasting bed, Age after age, still sunk in slumbers sweet. Farewell ! and may you still in peace repose ; Still o'er you may the flowers, untrodden, bloom, And softly wave to every breeze that blows, Casting their fragrance on each lonely tomb, In which...
Page 123 - The giant form which lies embedded here, Of other years the sole remaining trace. Or, it may be, that still ye linger near The sleeping ashes, once your dearest pride ; And, could your forms to mortal eye appear, Or the dark veil of death be thrown aside, Then might I see your restless shadows glide, With watchful care, around these relics dear.
Page 122 - Forgot their wars, and found a long repose. Ye mouldering relics of departed years! Your names have perished; not a trace remains, Save, where the grass-grown mound its summit rears From the green bosom of your native plains. Say! do your spirits wear oblivion's chains ? Did death forever quench your hopes and fears...
Page 121 - Its fringe of cliffs was, in the distance, seen, And the dark line of forest sweeping round. { I saw the lesser mounds which round me rose ; Each was a giant heap of mouldering clay ; There slept the warriors, women, friends, and foes, There, side by side, the rival chieftains lay ; And mighty tribes, swept from the face of day, Forgot their wars, and found a long repose.
Page 36 - The tempest, which had juBt gone by, Still hung along the eastern sky, And threatened, as it rolled away. The birds from every dripping spray, Were pouring forth their joyous mirth. The torrent with its waters brown, From rock to rock came rushing down; While, from among the smoking hills, The voices of a thousand rills Were heard, exulting at its birth. A breeze came whispering through the wood. And, from its thousand tresses, shook The big round drops, that trembling stood, Like pearls, in every...
Page 121 - And all was silence, save the mournful strain With which the widowed turtle wooed in vain Her absent lover to her lonely nest. Now, one by one emerging to the sight, The brighter stars assumed their seats on high...
Page 121 - I lingered, by some soft enchantment bound, And gazed, enraptured, on the lovely scene , From the dark summit of an Indian mound I saw the plain, outspread in living green ; Its fringe of cliffs was in the distance seen, And the dark line of forest sweeping round.
Page 57 - The moon shone bright, and her silvery light Through the forest aisles was glancing, And with mimic beam, on the rippling stream, A thousand stars were dancing. No noise was heard, save the night's lone bird, From his dark and dreary dwelling; Or the distant crash, of some aged ash, Which the axe of time was felling.
Page 121 - THE sun's last rays were fading from the west, The deepening shade stole slowly o'er the plain, The evening breeze had lulled itself to rest, And all was silence, save the mournful strain With which the widowed turtle wooed, in vain, Her absent lover to her lonely nest. Now, one by one, emerging to the sight, The brighter stars assumed their...
Page 43 - ... this country." And we are told of the backwoods preacher who, in the midst of an impassioned attempt to picture the joys of Heaven, expressed the climax by saying that Heaven is a "Kentuck of a place!" Kentucky is also celebrated in many poems. Micah P. Flint thus described a Kentucky sugar-camp.60 'To fancy's eye it might have seemed As though the golden days of yore Had circled back to earth once more ; And brought again that guileless mirth Which bards have sung and sages dreamed In bright...

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