The Wild Huntress.
Chapter XVII.—The Indian Summer.
Look forth on the forest ere autumn wind scatters1
Its frondage of scarlet, and purple, and gold :2
That forest, through which the great ‘Father of Waters’3
For thousands of years his broad current has rolled !4
Gaze over that forest of opaline hue,5
With a heaven above it of glorious blue,6
And say is there scene, in this beautiful world,7
Where nature more gaily her flag has unfurled ?8
Or think’st thou, that e’en in the regions of bliss,9
There’s a landscape more truly Elysian than this ?10
Behold the dark sumac in crimson arrayed,11
Whose veins with the deadliest poison are rife !12
And, side by her side, on the edge of the glade,13
The sassafras laurel, restorer of life !14
Behold the tall maples turned red in their hue,15
And the muscadine vine, with its clusters of blue ;16
And the lotus, whose leaves have scarce time to unfold,17
Ere they drop, to discover its berries of gold ;18
And the bay-tree, perfumed, never changing its sheen,19
But for ever enrobed in its mantle of green !20
And list to the music borne over the trees !21
It falls on the ear, giving pleasure ecstatic—22
The song of the birds and the hum of the bees23
Commingling their tones with the ripples erratic.24
Hark ! hear you the red-crested cardinal’s call25
From the groves of annona ?— from tulip-tree tall ?26
The mock-bird responding ?— below, in the glade,27
The dove softly cooing in mellower shade ?28
While the oriole answers in accents of mirth—29
Oh, where is there melody sweeter on earth ?30
In infamy now the bold slanderer slumbers,31
Who falsely declared ’twas a land without song !32
Had he listened, as I, to those musical numbers33
That liven its woods through the summer-day long—34
Had he slept in the shade of its blossoming trees,35
Or inhaled their sweet balm ever loading the breeze,36
He would scarcely have ventured on statements so
wrong—37
wrong—37
‘Her plants without perfume, her birds without song.’38
Ah ! closet-philosopher, sure, in that hour,39
You had never beheld the magnolia’s flower !40
Surely here the Hesperian gardens were found—41
For how could such land to the gods be unknown ?42
And where is there spot upon African ground43
So like to a garden a goddess would own ?44
And the dragon so carelessly guarding the tree,45
Which the hero, whose guide was a god of the sea,46
Destroyed before plucking the apples of gold—47
Was nought but that monster—the mammoth of old.48
If earth ever owned spot so divinely caressed,49
Sure that region of eld was the Land of the West ?50