XIV. A COMPLAINT. THERE is a change-and I am poor; What happy moments did I count! A Well of love-it may be deep I trust it is, and never dry: In silence and obscurity. -Such change, and at the very door Of my fond Heart, hath made me poor. XV. RUTH. WHEN Ruth was left half desolate Her Father took another Mate; And she had made a Pipe of straw, Had built a Bower upon the green, As if she from her birth had been An Infant of the woods. Beneath her Father's roof, alone She seemed to live; her thoughts her own; Herself her own delight: Pleased with herself, nor sad nor gay, She passed her time; and in this way Grew up to Woman's height. There came a Youth from Georgia's shore A military Casque he wore With splendid feathers drest; He brought them from the Cherokees; The feathers nodded in the breeze, And made a gallant crest. From Indian blood you deem him sprung': Ah no! he spake the English tongue, And bore a Soldier's name ; And, when America was free From battle and from jeopardy, With hues of genius on his cheek In finest tones the Youth could speak. -While he was yet a Boy The moon, the glory of the sun, And streams that murmur as they run, Had been his dearest joy. He was a lovely Youth! I guess The panther in the wilderness Was not so fair as he; And, when he chose to sport and play. No dolphin ever was so gay Upon the tropic sea. Among the Indians he had fought; And with him many tales he brought Of pleasure and of fear; Such tales as, told to any Maid By such a Youth, in the green shade, He told of Girls, a happy rout! Who quit their fold with dance and shout, Their pleasant Indian Town, To gather strawberries all day long; Returning with a choral song When day-light is gone down. He spake of plants divine and strange That every hour their blossoms change, Ten thousand lovely hues! With budding, fading, faded flowers 1 They stand the wonder of the bowers From morn to evening dews. He told of the Magnolia*, spread High as a cloud, high over head! The Cypress and her spire, -Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam Cover a hundred leagues, and seem To set the hills on fire. The Youth of green savannahs spake, With all its fairy crowds Of islands, that together lie As quietly as spots of sky Among the evening clouds. And then he said "How sweet it were A fisher or a hunter there, A gardener in the shade, Still wandering with an easy mind To build a household fire, and find A home in every glade! * Magnolia grandiflora. + The splendid appearance of these scarlet flowers, which are scattered with such profusion over the Hills in the Southern parts of North America, is frequently mentioned by Bartram in his Travels. |