^66 WILLIAM E. GILMORE. [1850-60. Her tearful eyes, so brightly blue, Turned not their melting rays on me ; Upon the shadowy ceil she gazed, Like one who dreamed in ecstasy. And not with words we plighted faith ; For words the rapturous spell had broke ; Yet firmer, truer vows than ours, O ! never yet hath lover spoke. All fears, all sorrows I forgot, My soul was ravished with delight ; Alone, with Annie in my arms, ! I was happy yesternight ! LINES WRITTEN ON MOUNT LOGAN.* Ye who love only Nature's wildest form : The desolate rock, the desolating storm ; The toppling, crackling avalanche of snow, Threat'ning with ruin all the plain below. Where the poor peasant from the chilly soil, Wiings half a maintenance with double toil ; The beetling crag, out-jutting from the shore, Where ocean chafes with everlasting roar. Mindless how oft the drowning sailor's wail Has mingled there with winter's whistling gale; Who, with romantic affectation, call The dreary, lifeless deserts beautiful. Where bleaching bones of perished pil- grims lay Pointing the future caravan its way ; Go, find such scenes where Lybian sands are spread. Or huge Mont Blanc uprears its glittering head. Or Scylla frowns, the sailor's constant dread. But thou, O gentler tourist, who dost feel A purer pleasure o'er thy spirit steal, When softer landscapes open to thy view Their endless novelties of form and hue ; Come wander here, with pensive step and slow. Where sweet Scioto's silver waters flow. And smiling Nature OAvns how kind a God Gave man this bright and beautiful abode.
- A prominent hill near Chillicothe, Ohio.
YON BROOK HATH WATERS PEARLY BRIGHT. Yon brook hath waters pearly bright ; Its bed hath pebbles pure and white ; Upon its marge the violet grows ; Beside it blooms the carmine rose. I know a maiden brighter far Than e'er its sun-kissed w^aters are ; No white so pure its channel knows, As Annie's parted lips disclose. Her eyes are deeper, sweeter blue Than yonder violets bathed in dew ; A rose to peer her vermeil cheek. In vain 'mong yonder clusters seek. And softer than its waters' flow, Her voice, so musical and low ; And ah ! her soul shows more of heaven Than in the brook's reflection's given !
