The Plymouth weekly Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1860-1869, 1860-03-15
SrlrttrG Qortrp.
Ell DORADO.
BY MISS SALLIE BRIDGES,

Dclo" lhere spredu Hclu vi rlpeLcu eoIh'
Half reaped, half waving in the passing breeze
Waiting a couch within the empty vain
That stood with drowsy team meath neighb ring
trees.
The farmers, weary of their midday toll,
Had homeward turned their eager steps to find
Some welcome rest around the groaning board,
Leaving their graceful sheavcs and me behind !.
And farther off, like sparsling, ,jeweled belt,
The river shone where stately ships went by,
Whose snowy sails, through clefts of verdure seen
BY feecy clouds seemed mirrored in the sky.
The balmy air just stirred the yellow grain,
And, save the cattles low, no sound arose,
But now and then an insects droning chirp,
To stir the silence of the days repose
And floating downward through my leafy screen,
single ray, like Jacobs ladder, seemed,
That upward reached to heavens of far-off years
Where phantoms of the past like angels gleam-
ed.
Hours that come no more, and hopes long gone
The memories of lost loves and friendships
dead,
Pale ghosts of passionate meetings and farewells
The shadows of old dreams, and tales oft read
But most these last, for from my listless hand
Had dropped the book my thoughts long fingered
O'cr,
A stirring chronicle of times gone by.
What men believed and did in days of yore.
Strange stories of the sea ard legends wild,
As this one by the ancient Arabs told,
OF Satan's hand oststretching from the wave
To grasp the ship whose venture too bold.
And those long cherished fables of the west,
The Golden City and the Fount of Youth;
And al the list of brave, heroic men
| That died in searching for their trusted truth.
Till mine own fancy, set aaame by dreams
| OF wonders hidden meath the southern cross,
In secret forests of that gorgeous land.
Stayed not of life and hope to count thc.loss.
Saw only two brave Walters proudly sail,
From shores whose giant queen bade each 'GOd
speed,'
And "wore them in her heart" while, outward
bound,
Their fearless minds to danger gave no heed.
Forgetting all the while foreign grave,
Where Raelghs son slept meath a tropc sky
Whose sire's last words were on scatfold spoke
$50 hearts be right, what matter how kcads lie.'
For all my thoughts were busy with the tale
OF that old Spanish sailor, who alone
Had walked through FL Dorado's gildcd streets
And seen the Inca on his ivory throne!
Till in my vision arose and passed
Thro' opening ranks of pumcd AMI bowling
grain,
That, Ike an army of raised dead, closed M,
With warning whisper that the quest was vain
And at the rivers edge found ship
That swiftly bore me distant seas;
Until the waters freshened n II TIA the keel,
The sails we're waited by Il scented breeze.
Andup whining stream upon whose shore
Panihcrs and serpcnts, birds and lilies drank
As once in Eden, by Euphrates' wave,
Untamed, unframed, they shared the same greer
bank.
Until at last We anchored in lake,
Bearing an emerald island on its breast,
Whercon marble structure stately rose,
! Whose open gate seemed waiting for guest.
In front fount of liquid gold sprung up,
In jeweled basin sparkling still to fall,
And just beyond its porphyry columns rose
/ Strewn DER with precious dust the palace hall.
Within four gorgeous lamps burned, day and night
! Before an altar, whcreon dazzling shone
A burnishcd golden sun, whose glowing rays
Circled the Empror on his ivory throne.
In silverrobes the people of the land
Bowed ever down before their hidden king,
And each received priceless crown whese hant
The tribute Of crystal heart could bring.
A stranger, 'wildered by the flashing light,
! turned aside where other galleries led,
Where pictures hung whose colors were of gems
And topaz stars lit sapphire domes o'erhead.
Through pile, of ingots and an India wealth,
Out the sunshine roved my tireless feet;
Met marvelJ at each step, until at last
reached the entrance of the Goldsmiths street
cannot tell the lustrc and the wealth
That dazzcd all nv senses in one maze,
Till sudden blindness STRUCK my wondering sight
In one swift flashing of adiamond's blaze.
And strng with pain strained my sm1rtlng eyes
Still darkened by the brightness of the stone,
Till, from the fibled glores of dream,
! Came recognition of a scene well known.
The waving corn, the river winding past,
The shining scythes, the empty, waiting vain
And the a eat tree thro' whose thick cluscrc
leaves
Anoon day beam, straight dartng made my pain
While pondering DER the meaning of my dream
raised the book, and OH its open page
The rare, quaint author had his moral writ,
Answ'ring my thoughts in warning to his age:
"Lost, lost, forever lost the old belief
In golden quests, that lured men DER the seas
Yet, readers dear, still keep an earnest faith
In distant mysteries more rich than these.
"For still the eternal fount Of life and youth
Flows pure and fresh from out IT," great whit
throne,
And still the glded city waits for ,uests,
Whose streets are gold, whose walls arc prcciou
stone.
"And but one mortal, Christs beloved John,
Has seen this FL Dorado's priceless state,
Wherein no sunlight but Gods glory Shines
And ever open stands each pearly gate.
40. weary wanderer through desert world