GERTRUDE OF WYOMING. PART II. I. A VALLEY from the river shore withdrawn II. Yet wanted not the eye far scope to muse, Nor vistas open'd by the wand'ring 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 low'd far from human home. III. But silent not that adverse eastern path Like tumults heard from some far distant town; But soft'ning in approach he left his gloom, IV. It seem'd as if those scenes sweet influence had On Gertrude's soul, and kindness like their Own Inspir'd those eyes affectionate and glad, That each succeeding look was lovelier than the last. Nor, guess V. 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 look'd 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 see thee trace 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! home of kindred I have never seen! We know not other-oceans are between ;- 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 saw!" VIII. Yet deem not Gertrude sigh'd for foreign joy; hair; While yet the wild deer trod in spangling dew, While boatman caroll'd to the fresh-blown air, And woods a horizontal shadow threw, And early fox appear'd in momentary view. IX. At times there was a deep untrodden grot, Where oft the reading hours sweet Gertrude wore ; Tradition had not nam'd its lonely spot; But here (methinks) might India's sons explore Their father's dust,* or lift, perchance, of yore, X. But high, in amphitheatre above, XI. It was in this lone valley she would charm Her cheek reclining, and her snowy arm And no intruding visitation fears, To shame th' unconscious laugh, or stop hcr sweetest tears. XII. For, save her presence, scarce an ear had heard The stock-dove plaining through its gloom profound, *It is a custom of the Indian tribes to visit the tombs of their ancestors, in the cultivated parts of America who have been buried for upwards of a century. Or winglet of the fairy humming bird, XIII. A steed, whose rein hung loosely o'er his arm, XIV. For Albert's home he sought-her finger fair Nor joyless, by the converse, understood, And early liking from acquaintance sprung: XV. And well could he his pilgrimage of taste Unfold, and much they lov'd his fervid strain,While he each fair variety re-trac'd Of climes, and manners, o'er the eastern main Now happy Switzer's hills,-romantic Spain,- |