Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1857-08-07

Tones may lie false, and words untrue,
Mere slaves at Faney's call;
The eye, bright mirror ofthe soul,
Alone can tell us all.
ONT, Ohio.
THE SYCAMORES.
By JOHN @. WHITTIER.
In the outskirts Of the village,
On the rivers winding shores,
Stand the Occidental plane-trccs,
Stand the ancient sycamoresl
One long century hath becn numbered,
Andanother halfway told,
Since the rustic Irish glccman
Broke for them the virgin mold.
Deity set to Celtic music,
At his violin's sound they grew,
Through the moonlit ewes Of summer,
Making Amphion's fable true.
Rise again, thou poor Hugh Talent!
Pass in jerken green along,
with thy eyes brim full Of laughter,
And thy mouth as full of song.
Pioneer of Erins outcasts,
With his fiddle and lis pack;
Little dreamed the village saxons
or the myrlads at his back.
How he wrought with spade and id,,le,
Delved by day, aud sang by night,
With hand that never wcaiied,
And heart forever light.
Still the gay tradition mingles
with record grave and drear,
Like the rollick air Of Cluny,
With the solemn march Of Near.
When the Box-trec, white with blossoms,
Made the sweet May woodlands glad,
And the Aroma by the river
Lighted up the swarming shad.
And the bullying nets swept shoreward,
With their silyer-sided haul,
Midst the shouts ofdripping fishers,
lie was merriest of them all.
When, among the jovial huskers,
Love stole in at Labor's side,
With the lusty airs Of England, u
Soft his Celtic measures We'd.
Songs of love and wailing lyke-wake,
And the merry fairs carouse;
or the wild Red Fox of Erin,
And the woman Of Three Cows.
BY the blazing hearths OF Winter,
Pleasant seemed his simple tales,
Midst the grimmer Yorkshire legends,
And the mountain myths OF Wales.
How the souls in pilrontOrY
Scrambled up from fate forlorn,
On st. Keven's sackcloth ladder
Slyly hitched to Satan's horn.
OF the fiddler, who, in Tara,
Played all night to ghosts of kings;
OF the brown dwarfs, and the fairies,
Dancing in their moorland ringst
Jolliest of our birds Of singing,
Best he loved the Bob-o-link.
"Iiush!'' he'd say, "the tipsy fairicsl
Hear the little folks in drink
Merry-iaeed, with spade and iddlc'
Singing thro' the ancient town,
Only this, ofpoor Hugh Talent,
Heath Tradition handed down.
-NUb ~ Stolie ms BtoNt oioSiNSNsb
But, myet his spirit walks,
'Tis beneath the trees he planted,
Aud when Bob-o-Lincoln talksl
Green memorials of the gleemanI
Linking still the river shores,
With their shadows cast by sunset,
Stand Hugh Talents syeamores!
When the Eathar nf bfs ronpfrt-
Thro' the nortlI-land riding came,
And the roofs were starred with banners,
And the stetples rang acclaim
when each war-scarred CONTINENTAL
Leaving smithy, mill, and farm,
waved his rusted sword in welcome,
Ana shot oil his old kings-arm-
Slowly passed. that august PRESENCE,
Down tho 'hronsed and shouting street;
village giris' as white as angels,
sca''erms mowers around his ieet'
Midway where the piane-trees' shadow
deepest ieii' his rein he drew;
On his stately head, uncovered,
COOL and soft the west wind blew.
Anu ne $1,000 up IN ms stirrups'
hoohing up, ana looking down'
on 'ne hiiis o' uoia ana oiNer'
i''i'hi"S iouna 'iie ii''ie 'o"h-
on 'ne ri'ei iui' oil sun -shIne'
tue iaPoi greehes' faes'
uO"n hon' NoOueu he''uiAnuS'
"o" sA'i''"' "N''e WIN s""s'
Ana ne Sa'u' 'ne ian'Ac''pe sweeping
Slowly Win ms uhs'o'eu manu.
u nave seen no prosper iarer
In TINS goouiy eastern i@nu'
linen 'he ousles OF MS escort
snrrea 20 NE 'ne ca'aicade;
Anu 'lAl heau' SO pare anu stately
'aniSheu uOwh 'he uep'hs oil shade
Ever SINCE IN town ana FARMHOUSE
Lne ha.n nad i's eoo anu now
AnIice ha'h passed the human harvest
10 i's garner green ana loW'
but the trees the sieeman planted
Thro' the changes ehangeless stand;
Asthe marble CAIN oil Iadmor
NochS Inc deserts shifting sand
"'ia 'iie is's' inoo"' a. iis"s'
enNers Der eaen stateiy hhaiti
Still beneath them, half in shadow,
Singing. plIdes the Measure craft
Still beneath them. ar1n-enfolded.
yo., vo.,.,. ..-..,...
Love anu iou'h tose'her suayi
While, as heart to heart beats faster,
Mora and mora their fact dalav