266 HARVEY RICE. [] 840-50. THE FAR WEST. WHERE, think ye, is now the West ? Tiie far, far West, the land of dreams, Whose hills and vales, with virgin breast. Still slumber in their ancient rest. Lulled by the voice of plaintive streams ! From Mexico, where airs are bland. To Oregon's impetuous flood. Already vale and mountain land Resound to that advancing band, Who proudly boast of Yankee blood ! Nor distant is the day, perchance. When yet these sons of valiant sires Shall win their way, by love or lance. To sunnier climes, and e'en advance Beyond the Equator's solar fires. Thus race to race must ever yield, And mental power assume the sway; Broad as the earth the ample field, For those who trust in virtue's shield, And Freedom's banner dare display. The far, far West, 'tis Freedom's now. The gift of God to earth's 0{)pressed, The land where all, who take the vow, No more to king or priest to bow. May come, and find their wrongs re- dressed. Aye, there shall happy millions yet Reclaim the soil, and crowd the mart ; Freemen, who thrive by toil and sweat. Sprinkling the waste with cities, set On hill and plain, like gems of Art. And there shall thought yet fly afar Along the wire, from climes remote, And blend with thought, like star with star, While startling rolls the frantic car, And bannered glides the gallant boat. And there, unawed, the mind of man, Progressive still, shall still aspire ; Nor yield to creeds that fear to scan The mystic lore of Nature's plan, But still, insatiate, aim the higher ! In sooth, it needs no prophet's eye, Westward to Ocean's calmer sxirge, To see the future there outvie The ancient world, whose glories lie Pillared on Time's receding verge ! O what, when centuries have rolled. Will be this mighty Western Land ? Her sons — will they be brave and bold. And still defend her banner's fold ? Her holy altars — will they stand ? The link that binds the Sisterhood, Say, will it brighten and grow strong. And men bear rule, the great and good. Who shun dissension, strife, and blood. Yet cleave to right, nor yield to wrong? Fear not ! with holier influence yet. The years shall come which God oi'dains; When Freedom's bounds shall not be set. Nor man his fellow man forget, Li blind pursuit of sordid gains ! THE VISIONARY. A CHILD of genius — born — Not bred in schools. He scorns the world's proud scorn, Though ranked with fools, And holds a converse that's refined With Nature, and with Natui'e's Mind. Nor does he delve with those Who delve for gold ; But, rapt in calm repose, Like seer of old,
