The Wyandot pioneer. (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1853-1868, 1858-01-21
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THE GOLD HUNTER.

| lie was kAI away IIOtu mn hottSC uOiuCp
And the scenes he loved so we'll
Where in happier hours he used TO roam.
When the night-borr shadows fell;
And the ashy palsness on his cheek,
And the deathlight in his eye,
And trembling limbs. all plainly speak,
That disease and death are nigh.
The balmy breath of the evening air.
Is bending the heather now,
And plays with the locks Of raven hair
That aro clustering round his brow;
And it kisses the cheek that with fever burns
While whispering soft and low
The word of hope, and the thought that turn
The heart from its dream Of woe.
IT'S lovely spot where the hunter lies,
And wild flowers bloom arc md;
And trees that for ages have sought the skies
Throw their shadows DER the ground;
And the song Of many happy bird,
And the Ginning OF the rlls,
The hollow tones Of the echoes stirr'd,
AS they slumbered among the hills.
lie had left his home and the valleys green.
! Where in childhood hours he str yed--
Where the cot by the pebbly brook is seen,
And the garden on the glade.
Hehad left his home in his youthful days,
With the thousands young and d,
For a land tn at far to the westward lays,
TO dig for the hidden gold.
He reached the land, and egoId dust CLEANED
From many secret mine;
AMI the dashing waves Of the rivers seemed,
With priceless gems to shine.
And the dark, dark days Of the oheerlsss past
Were hid from his memory then;
For The riches ofearth liz might win at last
He sho, Id not be poor again.
Through the tolls Of many weary day,
In the heat Of sultry sun,
He labored on, till the treasure lay
In heaps, that his toll had won.
And he needed not that his strength did fail,
Nor needed he heat or cold,
Nor rec ked he least, that his cheek grew pale
Whilst he barlcrcd his life for gold.
Twas won at last as he gather. up
The hopes of l. is widest dream,
He thought ofthe elf with the silver cup,
That dwelt by the haunted stream
For there it was, not a day dream bright,
That leadeth but to betray;
But gold, pare gold, fore his aching sight.
Al The feet OF the hunter lay.
He had gold for years-but Of what avail
| the wealth. OF the Indies now,
As he utters low and piercing wall,
And the cold sweat damps his brow?
He would give it all. though twas bought with
life, at.,....
In far off, stranger land,
Mid scenes Of danger, Of toll. and strife,
For the clasp of u friendly hand
For there he lay by that fountains side,
With none of his kindred near
To witness the ebb of life's snkiag tide,
Nor to stretch him upon his bier;
With the palor of death on his carewern face.
Mid the evenings gathering gloom,
His only shroud in that lonely place,
That must erve sim instead Of the tomb.
He slcpt--and the scene Of his early years,
Are crowding upon his brain;
The voice Of brother, or sister hears,
And the music OF home agxinl
And he greets them all by that hearthstone
gray,
Which is now so lone and cold
And the song Of the brook on it's ocean way,
He hears by the leafy VOID
The scene is changed; and again he sees
A form that is wreathed with SMILES
Like the phantom forms on the tropic breeze,
Which gladden. you sea girt isles
And her soft, sweet voice, on the night air
rings, ..
While chanting thelays Of yore; :.
More sweet than the strains which wind
harp filings,
She is by his side ! and that whispered word,
Tho, gh years DER their love had flown.
Tells him that heart, whose wild thlobbings
are heard. t...,. ...'0
Is beating for him alone
And he presses his lips to her burning cheek,
And murmurs that name so dear,
That had been III that country 50 wild and
bleak,
His best and his brightest cheer.
'Tis past and that vision SO bright and fair,
Like sunshine through storm and cloud,
Has passed away like a meteors glare,
That floats in All airy shroud
And the shivering lint g Of the hunter feel,
. he 6 aspsof fearful foe
His braiu grows wild, and his senses reel
He will suffer no more below.
us morning now and the hunter sleeps,
Gather in gems as the sunlight cr-eps
O'er the brow of the lost and lorne.
And the swift winged breeze on its northward
Lifts the curls from his pallid brow;
And the dancing waves of The fountain play.
Though the dead lies near them now
But he heeds them not-and the gushing wave.
And the roar Of the forest wild,
A requiem chant Ger his lonely grave,
Der the tomb Of this way worn child.
And she who hath watched for his safe return,
Will look for her love in vain.
'or in lands afar, with mt knell or urn. Id
BE sleeps on western plai i. .,,,o,
To Fssten Leather to Metal. .-nGsk
'e leather in bet solution Of nut gals.