Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1852-03-03
PsgT'g. GSRHgR,
Written for the Spirit Of the. Age-Raleigh.
THE HUNTSMAN'S SON.
BY TERo, OF GRANVILLE

A brave old mastif fierce and free,
Impatient for a mountain spree.
A hunt.man he Of fearless mood
That Oft upon the mountains stood
Aud heard some piercing Panther's shrek,
As fearless as the lightning's streakl
Soon IA the rosy dawn was seen,
He'd take hs horn and old eanteen,
And wrap his cloak around his clothes,
To screen him from the northern SHOWS.
II warm and sultry was the day,
In search Of pure and wholesome spray,
While shadows slept upon the hills,
I'D roam along the gurgling rlls.
The terror of the crow and hawk,
Of Squirrel in the hickory fork,
The Lion in his forest lair
Or Tiger, Catamount and Bear.
Each heart he knew Of high degree,
Zach fowl that perched upon a tree;
Rejoicing most when called to try
His powder at n tigers eye
How oft would he the tale rehOarse
OF his adventures wild and fierce,
Until his boy would pant for fame,
And wish that he had seen the same.
Aspiring youth too full of hope,
Ono morning ere the sun was up
He started for the forest wild,
The trees were green-the zephyrs mild,
The flowers were sweet-the rivulets clear,
All nature seemed to smile sincere.
He rambled on aud farther still
Until he reached a gushing rill.
Unused to toilsome mountain spree,
He sat him down beneath a tree,
And fell asleep-but soon awoke,
A nymph-like voice beside him spoke!
Hast thou no friend to cheer thy youth,
To guide thee i'll the paths of truth?
To quench thy thirst for forest sport
In search of tiger, owl and goatf {
My father taught me thus to stray,
AS he would each successive day,
Around his cabin-hearth, relate
The fare Of his adventures late!
A genius young should never stoop
To initiate the eagles swoop;
But like the eaglet, soaring high,
Should disregard the owlet's cry.
Should not delight in savage chase,
Nor quaff the poison from the vase,
Nor fill too oft the black canteen-
But bark yon cloud prescribes a scene;
So haste thee to my fathers cot
Where WEAKNESS will be forgot
Until the morning light shall dawn
On forest green and f1owery lawn.
He went, the captive of a smile
That would a Nero's heart beguile;
That would dispel the chafed desire
To kindle high a nations ire.
A cottage Of dimensions small,
Surrounded by green aspens tall;
The home of Innocence and bliss,
Where dwelt the lovely ELLEN miss"
Delightful scenel who would not wish
To feast each day from such a dishi
TO sit beneath an aspen tree
And look on one so sweet as she2
He slept beneath a friendly roof
Till morn's bright dawn gave touching proof
Or why those grateful, wishfui eyesi
The time had come-but oh, the thought!
The feelings Of his soul up-wrought,
Too prOue TO staV-tOO Young to love.
What strange emotion could him novel
Retracing mountain, dale and hill,
With memory bright and FURNISHED still,
lie reached his fathers cabin door;
Twas not as lovely as before!
The shadows of the trees looked dark,
And melancholy glowed the spark
Upon the arth-stone-while all things SCENE
As if he'd all his lifetime dreamed.
He'd oft mistake the breeze above
For the cooling of his forest dove
And every voice, though hoarse or shrill.
Resembled "Ellen's 10y the rill."
While wrapt in slumber soft and still,
lie dreamt of ELLEN of the rill"--
Nor needed he the huntsman's charm
Nor smiled around the hearth-stone warm.
His pcnsive mind seemed lost in thought,
And with emotions deep all fraught.
While oft he'd sigh-ah Ellen fairl
No srailes can e'er with thine compare"
What could he do Z Could passions surge,
The swelling heart to silence urgei
What must he do 2 submissive speak,
Or let his swelling hearts-rings breaki
What should he do2 To thus remain
Was augur sure Of deeper pain.
Such silence could not quiet bring,
And SO he tuned his harp to sing.
He snatched his time. stained turkey quill,
To sing OF Ellen of the rill."
He told her Of his heart controlled,
As thus MS forest numbers rolled.
I saw thee, Ellen, by the rill
That gushes from yoCn towering hill
] cav thee meath the aspen bough,
Thy artless smile-l see it now.
A fancy doth thy form portray
Nor will thy cheerful looks decay
From memory's page, but live as bright
As MONDAY suns meridian light.
Unconscious of thy power to chill
Or warm the heart, or sway the will
OF man, thou soarest as if nought
Gould e'er disturb thy lofty thought.
Thy guileless soul could meier design
To eaptivate this heart Of mine-s
To kindle high a flame of love,
Which time nor distance can't remove.
When first we met little thought
Nv feelings would be thus up-wrought-
That thy kind looks and placid smiles
Could rule the heart on distant isles"
Oh! Ellen, say, how didst thou write
Thine image here, SO deep, 60 bright,
In such exact, true miniature,
And seal the affections so securel
To elude the signet ofthy sway,
/ toll through each successive day;
But bark the singing birds proclaim
E~nehantmentis power, and call thy name
Ellen. where, oh /! where art thoui
Thy voice salutss from yon high bough
Bright fancy's ear, rs evenings breeze
Awakes the foliage Of the trees
Whcne'er the silyery moon view,
And stars that deck the ethereal blue,
Think Of thee, the brightest gem
That illumss fair virtues diadem-
When in the arms Of sleep l hush
Nv voice, nocturnal visions rush
Athwart my brain and there thou art,
Vibrating quickly thro' the heart
When rising from my couch at dawn
OF day. to inhale the breeze Of morn,
Aurora's bIushing, sunlit tints
Thy smile iuscribes-thy blush imprints.
Thy smile. celestial, sweet supreme
Would constitute my brightest theme
Amid the checkered scenes of time,
And lift my soul to thoughts sublime.
Imust not-will not say adieu,