XXVIII.

Old Albert saw him from the valley's side-
His pirogue launch'd—his pilgrimage begun —
Far, like the red-bird's wing he seem'd to glide;
Then dived, and vanished in the woodlands dun.
Oft, to that spot by tender memory won,
Would Albert climb the promontory's height,
If but a dim sail glimmer'd in the sun;
But never more, to bless his longing sight,
Was Outalissi hail'd, with bark and plumage
bright.

GERTRUDE OF WYOMING.

PART II.

GERTRUDE OF WYOMING.

PART II.

I.

A VALLEY from the river-shore withdrawn
Was Albert's home, two quiet woods between,
Whose lofty verdure overlook'd 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 earth, you might (I ween)
Have guess'd 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 open'd by the wandering stream;
Both where at evening Allegany views,
Through ridges burning in her western beam,
Lake after lake interminably gleam:⚫

And past those settler's haunts the eye might roam
Where earth's unliving silence all would seem;