PASSAGE UP THE CONNECTICUT,
FROM HARTFORD TO SPRINGFIELD.
The summer-morn doth greet thee cheerily,
Stream of my fathers. From the shaded dell
Where in thy Highland cradle thou didst take
The little water-cup so thankfully,
From every nursing rill, on to the scene
Of thy rejoicing bridal with the Sea,
Where snowy sails from many a region, bear
The nuptial dowry, thou hast held thy way,
A comforter, and blessing.
Full and fair
Thou scatterest bounties o'er thy verdant banks,
As though thou ne'er hadst known a time of need,
Or penury. Yet I remember well
When last I saw thee in adversity.
Winter had chained thee long, and tardy Spring
Shrank, as she whispering warned thy mighty heart
To wake and free itself. No trampled realm
Came to its battle-hour, more valiantly.
Thy prison doors were broken, at the rush
