Litchfield enquirer., 1832-03-08
POETRY.

vThs following Prize Poem is irOmthe pen of Mrs. SieOurney. It deserves to rank with the most finish ed specimens that have eaanaIed from the same gift ed source.
 From the Albany literary Gare9e. THE WESTERN EMIGRANT. Amid those forest shades that proudly rear'd Their unshOrn beauty toward the fayoriRg skies, An axe rang sharply. There, with vigorous arn Wrought bold emigrant, while by his side His little son with question and response Beguiled the toll.
 "Boy, thou hast never seen Such glorious trees, and when their giant trunks Fall, how the firm earth groans. Remsmberess thou The mighty river on whose breast we sa'd So many days towards the setting sun Compared to that, our own Connecticut Is but a creeping stream"
 "Fa,her, the brook, That by our door went singing, when launch'd My:tiny boat with all the sPOrtve boys' b, When school was o'er, is dearer far to me Than all;these deep broad waters. To my eye They are as strangers. And those little trees My mother planted in the garden bound or our first home, from whence the fragrant peach Fell in it's ripening gold, were fairer sure Then this dark forest shutting out the day"
 "What, ho! my little girI,"-and with light step fairy creature hased toward her sire, And setting down the basket that contain'd The noon's repast, look'd upward to his face With sweet, coniding smile.
 "See, dearest, see Yon bright-winged paroquet, and hear the song Ofthe gay red-brd echong through the trees, Making rich music. Didst thou ever hear In far New England such mellow tone"
 "I had a robin that did take the crumbs Each night, and morning, and his chIrp'ng voice Did make me joyful, as went to tend My snow-drops. was always laughing there, In that first home should be happier now Methinks, fl l could find among these deIIs The same fresh violets." ... Slow night drew on, And round the rude hut of the Emigrant, The wra,hful spirit of the autumn storm Spake bitter things. His weared children slept, And he, with head declind, eat listening long To the swoln waters of the Illinois, Dashing against their shores. Startling, he spake-
 "Wife !-lid I see thee brush away tear'- Say, was it so?--Thy heart was with the halls Ofthy nativity. Their sparkling shtP, Carpets and sofas, and admring guests, Beft thee better than these rugged walls or shameless logs, and this lone hermit hOme." -.No-no!-Al was go still aronnd methought, Upon my ear that echoed hymn did steal Which mid the church where erst we paid our VOWS So tuneful peaI'd. But tenderly thy voice Dissolv'd the illusion :''--and the gentle smile Lighting her brow,-,he fond caress that sooth'd Her waking infant, re-assur'd his soul That wheresoe'e CT the pure affections dwell, And strike a heaIthfu root is happiness. -Placid and grateful, to his rest he sunk,-- But dreams, those wild magicians, which do play Such pranks when Reason slumbers. treess wrough Their will with him, Up rose the busy mart or his own native city,-roof and spire Forth came remembered forms-wmh curving neck The stecd his boyhood nurIur'd, proudly negh'd- The favorite dog, exutng round his feet Friskd with shrl, joyous bark-amiIiar doors Flew open-greeng hands with his were nk'd In Friendships grasE--he heard the keen debate From congregaied haanta, where mind with mind Doth blend and brighten--and till morning rov'd Mid the low d scenery of his father-land.