New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1845-06-20
THE TRIBUNE.
FoT The Tneun
TIE VALLEY.
pY Arorsrrs snopolAsa

fnnxx Il quiet sweetness % you hi.
That sempts as to ss shady roves from whence
We msy look down upon this beautiful vale
Ia rushing streams iis many colored Sold.
And habitsiions fair, and find III food
For meditation
Beautiful the scene
Between two giant hills, whose s.opins sices
Clean with the growing harvest, and the coz
VI the rough husbsndmsn. the valley lies.
And stretches far away in rolling waves
Winding among These rock.riobed steadiast hills.
A. it, own deep beauty forced lie way,
And IN those ages old. Of which
Hath the remembrance, the firm hi!ls did pan
BY some Wild spell Of beauty Of love;
And nor by the rough hcsyings Of The world
Moved by pent fires rending the rocks In twain
On either side. just whore the hill nelts down
Into the valley, comes rushing stream
Twin sisters Of the vale that side BY side
Flow onward Ill BY gentle curves and bend'.
Like two young children sporting On the PLAIN,
They rush into each others arms, and glide
In graceful rapture on their distant way
Along the old woods and oer-shadowing hills
To Susquebsnnas breast.
cannot gaze
Upon this scene Of beauty all unmoved;
For here wore away my careless youth move
With my hearts friends. whose feet no more shall
Upon the hui side and where voices pure
Never shall wake again the woods and groves
With their clear music. on with trembling hands
We lured the sy fish from its wa,ery cave
10 the clear rushing nyer or with aim
Insure, the wildduck frightened from il nest
On the still cove.
But here there IL a charm
Wrought from our valleys history. of those tunes
When by the struggling white men came
And woke the forests with the sounds OF toll
When the sharp axe rang through the echoing ~ho'
And the old trees came quiyering 70 the ground
Frightening the echoes with their crashing fall
The wild hart. timorou.. fed the antlered deer,
Rushed 10 the hils.-snd the fierce Indian frowned,
For the Old trees whose arms sheltered his sres
Were falling while the hot hurricane slept,
And the lightning dweIi harmless in the clouds.
This was the Red Mans home and from u g
wood
Rose the snoke-coumn from his wigwam iire,
And Ger the river shot his light canoe
Seeking the wild hart or the wrs,hiu foe.
Who. sheltered In some shady cove, did thrs.
For his enemy blood And of, perchsnce
The painted warriors in this beauteous vale
Rushed to the conflict. and the twangng bow.
The piercing w.r-cry. and the dread dull sound
OF the rough tomahswk clearing ,sw way
Through matted tuft and skull have brokethe charm
or the wales beauty for full of, the pow
Hath torn the Red Mans ashes from their rest
And hesved his trophies to the glare ofday
Arrows and stones hewn 10 the use Of War.
But this hath passed and other times have con e;
Art and the Toll of Wealth have torn the woods
From the vale and the steep Hill side and the hum
OF busy life,-of men thr-ting for gold.
Busting with eager steps and piercing eyes
From nom to night rush on the listening car.
Til we forget the wondrous times Of old
And tina, our fee, press relics. such
A the old world with ali its ancient tales
Of pomp and pagesntry can never boast
Here did nv heart frs, learn to throb with love
For those whose kind souls watched my opening
years
For thosc who grew up with me side by side;
But they in my still hours Of meditation
Come not alone; bu, mingled with the scene
whichmy soul oves.-with the old wasting woods,-
The stream that flows less beauteous than Of DID,
The vale. which my dreams I'll with shadowy men,
And shades ofrlshing deer.
And when the hour
That comes to AL men, comcth unto me.
May | portion Of this vale become.
Al bath been Of me and Of my thoughts;
And shall sleep more quiet thus to know
Ny dxst sleeps with QUO streams and hills and vale
NorsicI ~ y.