Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/81

Fain would I of their welfare hear,
That group of noble souls, and dear,
Who from their eastern birth-place prest,
To choose a mansion in the west.
Reluctant from our home and heart,
We saw those stalwart forms depart,
And if amid thy vallies green,
Thou aught of them hast heard or seen,
And will impart that lore to me,
Right welcome shall thy missive be.

    And now, may Spring, that decks the plains,
With kindling fervor touch thy veins,
And Summer smile with healthful skies,
And Autumn pour her thousand dies,
And many a year stern Winter spare
Thee in thy glory, fresh and fair,
Thy gratitude to heaven to show
By deeds of love to those below,
A mighty shade from noontide heat,
When pilgrims halt, or strangers greet,
Through woven leaves, a pleasant sound,
When murmuring breezes sigh around,
And many a nest for minstrel fair
That sing God's praise in upper air:
So may'st thou blessing live, and blest,
Monarch and Patriarch of the West.