476 WILLIAM W . FOSDICK. [1850-60. Where wind Atlantic with Pacific blends. When, at last, the Pioneers are gone, Meets the white sea-bird from the Gulf And all the generous impulses they bore. below. Vanish like flowers, fading on the lawn, Toll heaven's bell — Columbia is no more ! In those green woods the brave with beauty dwell, Nor houseless there may mortal creature roam, LUTE AND LOVE. The cordial welcome and the frank fare- Come let us sing — well Life's silver string Greet every stranger in a backwoods But half its songs hath spoken, home. And in the soul Our cabins may be rude, uncouth, and Love's golden bowl small. Lies by the well unbroken ; Still freely there may each one share a Then seize the lute. part. Nor deem Mirth's fruit For Hospitality extends a hand to all, The apples of Gomorrah, And with that hand she gives a back- Since Joy and Bliss woods' heart. The tear-drops kiss From off the cheek of Sorrow. Pines may be green upon the North's white hills. The day but shows Magnolias blanched in many a Southern Its gloom to those grove. Who live amid repining ; Give me the forest which the wild vine Nor night so dark fills, But some bright spark And tulip-poplars load the air with In shade will yet be shining ; love. While Winter's snows Give me the "West, beneath its sun, or But bring the rose. moon. The spring-time's scarlet token : Its white December, or its flowered Then let us sing May; Give me the hunter's home, the land of The silver string And golden bowl unbroken. Boone, To love and song Where generous hearts beat music night and day. Our lives belong, They make this earth elysian, And death so strange Loved heart of this broad land, no one Is but to change extreme To heaven's brighter vision ; Sheds luster sole upon this nation's While He above head; Will bless the love But when the life-blood stops in thy great And words our lips have spoken, stream, And we shall sing The center dies, be sure the nation's When silver string dead. And golden bowl lie broken !
