THE TOWER AT MONTEVIDEO.
Written after visiting the beautiful summer residence of Daniel Wadsworth, Esq., on Talcot mountain, near Hartford, Conn., which bears the name of Montevideo.
Full many a year hath past away,
Thou rude, old Tower, so stern and grey,
Since first I came, enthusiast lone,
To worship at thy hermit throne.
—Tho' wintry blast, and sweeping rain
Have mark'd thee with their iron stain,
Yet freely springing at thy feet,
New beauties wreathe their garland sweet
Young flowers the ancient wilds perfume,
In tangled dells, fresh roses bloom,
And foliage wraps with mantle deep,
The trap-rock ledges, harsh and steep.
—Still spreads the lake its mirror clear,
The forest-warblers charm the ear,
The glorious prospect opens wide
Its varied page in summer's pride,
And tasteful hands have deftly wove
Enchantment's spell o'er vale and grove.
Farewell old Tower! thou still shalt be
Remember'd as a friend by me,
Who bring'st from time's recorded track
The buds of joy profusely back,
And sweetly from thy turrets hoar
The song of gratitude dost pour,
Nor spare around my path to fling,
Young Memory's brighest blossoming.
