Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1855-04-18

POETRY. Y
The Logan GraZicr.

up yonder nil the grazleF goes
Obedient to his every word,
Before him stalk the lowing herd.
Reluctant in the misty morn,
With stamping hoof and tossing horn,
With heightened low and angry moan,
Go black and dappled, red and roam.
Through drain and hollow. up the hill
They pass, obedient to his will.
The slender OK aud mighty bull
The grazier thinks them beautiful.
You see less beauty in the herd,
Than in yon orange-tnted bird
You fix your better pleased gaze
On yon broad sweep Of emerald maize,
Yon naples on the hill side high,
Or on yon field of waving rye.
More pleased with maize, or rye, or trees
The grazier's sight is rot on these.
He sees a neited purse of gold,
In every believing three-year old.
He sees new comforts round his home.
When BUYERS down from Tazewell come.
He sees his cabin nigh the creek.
lis mud -daubed chimney changed to brick.
Its rude logs hid by clap-boards sawed.
Split shingles on its roof so broad;
New puncheons on the worn.out floor,
A nirket fence helnre the dOnr
And cups of tin and plates of delf,
And pewter spOOns, adorn the shelf.
Close where the rife hangs on hooks,
On cupboard top are rows OF books
The Pilgrim of the dreaming John,
And Weem's life of Marion
The we'll thumbed speeches Of Calhoun,
The pictured life Of Daniel Boone;
D'Aubigne's story told So well,
How Luther fought and Cramner fell;
To please his wife yellow gown.
And beads to deck his daughters brown.
A jack knife for his youngest son,
A rifle for his eldest one.
All these. to him the cattle low,
As up the hill they slowly 90.
He fears no ravage of disease,
'Mung brutes So strong and fat as these.
There's salt enough for them in store.
Brought from kauawha's muddy shore.
The herbage on the hill is good,
The fern is thick within the wood.
There's tender grass in yonder drain,
And pea vine on the summit plain.
High thought of gain that moment thrills
The grazler OF the Logan hills.
lie envies not the hero bold,
He cares not who may office hold.
The statrsman's pride, the stout mans limb,
The lovers hopes are naught to him.
His mind three things alone receives
His wife, his children, and his beeves.
So these may flourish and be fair,
All else around is smoke and air.
Oh. Logan Grazier, stout and strong,
Despsing fraud, defyiog wrong;
Brave as thine ancestors who bore
The sears of combat long and sore,
And fearless met in battle shock.
The wild and painted Shawanock;
True as the rifle in thy hand,
And generous as thy fertile land
Full oft Eve eaten by thy side
Thy cakes of corn and venison fried:
Oft in thy cabin as thy guest
Have stretched my weary limbs to rest.
love to note thy honest brow.
Staunch friend and true companion thou.
And know no manler form is seen
Than dwelIS within thy coat of jean;
Truth fills those eyes 50 keenly set
Beneath thy oxskin cap, and yet '
would not that thy lot were mine,
would not that my lot were thine,
Guard thou thy beeves and count thy gold,
BE glad when those great herds are sod.
For me, by midnight lamp. pore
My manuscript in silence o'er.
Each to the path that suits his feet;
zach toll, for time is moving fleet,
And soon in woolen shroud arrayed,
Beth ia our narrow cOfiins laid,
1t matters not if cattle fair,
Or making songs has been our care.
The poets and the graziers form
Shall feed alike the greedy worm;
Shall pass the poets glowing words,
Shall pass the grazer's lowing herds;
And from mems memory fade away
Both grazier's shout and poets lay.