The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1869-06-24
BIZ JOHN @. WHITTIER.

AT smut CT day Christian KnlgnI
Upon his henchman leaned.
The embers of the sunsets fires
Along the clouds burned down;
"Isee,' he said, "the domes and spires
OF Norembega town." l-oltAA
Alack the domes, O'master mine,
Are golden clouds on high;
Yon spire is but the branches pine
That cut the evening sky"
80 hush and bark what sounds are these
But chants and holy hymns %
" Thou hearst the breeze that stirs the trees
Through all their leafy limbs"
SIS it chapel bell that fills 81,
The air with it's low tone ?"
Thou hearst the tinkle of the rills.
The insects vespef drone."
1.-THE Christ be praised He sets for me
A blessed cross in sight p'
Now, nay. tits but yon blasted tree
With two gaunt arms outrightr'
BE it wind so sad or tree so stark,
It mattereth not, my knave;
Methinks to funeral hymns I bark,
The cross is for my grave!
Ny life is sped | shall not see rs
My home-set sails again; ssa
The sweetest eyes of Normandie
Shall watch for me in vain. m
" Yet onward still to ear and eye
The battling marvel calls:
l fain would look before die
On Norembega's walls.
SO, haply, it shall be thy part
At Christian feet to lay sou
The mystery of the deserts heart
My dead hand plucked away. iia "
Leave me an hour of rest go thou
And look from yonder heights; a bA
Perchance the valley even now
Is starred with city lights"
The henchman climbed the nearest hill,
He saw nor tower nor town,
But, through the drear woods, lone and
still,
The river rolling down.
He heard the stealthy feet of things
Whose shapes he could not see,
A futter as of evil wings,
The fall of a dead tree.
The pines stood back against the moon,
A sword of fire beyond;
He heard the wolf howl, and the loon
Laugh from his reedy pond.
he turned him back " o master dear,
We are but men misled;
And thou hast sought q city here
To find grave instead"
" AS God shall will, what matters where
true mans cross may stand,
So Heaven be DER it here as there
In pleasant Norman land?
These woods, perchance, no secret hide
OF lordly tower and hall;
fpn river in its wanderings wide
Has washed no city wall;
" Yet mirrored in the sullen stream
The holy stars are given;
Is Norembega then dream
Whose waking is in Heaven?
No builded wonder of those lands
My waking eyes shall see;
A city never made with hands
Alone awaiteth me-
as Ur6s Syo7s nlystica = see
It's mansions passing fair,
Condita co1o : let me be,
Dear Lord, dweller therep'
Above the dying exile hung an ~.
The vision of the bard,
AS feltered on his failing tongue .....1
The song of good Bernard.
The henchman dug at dawn grave
Beneath the hemloeks brown,
And to the deserts keeping gave
The lord of fef and town,
Years after when the sieur Champaign
Sailed up the mystic stream,
And Norembega proved again
A shadow and dream,
He foundtthe Norman's nameless grave
Within the hemlock's shade.
And, stretching wide its arms to save,
The sign that God had made
The cross-boughed tree that marked til
spot
And made it holy ground:
He needs the earthly city not "a
Who hath the heavenly found! 1F7
8EoUH
Norembega. or Norimbegue, is the nam
given by early French fishermen and explol
ers to a fabulous country south Of Cape Brt
- a.t 5;.oo,o~o5 nv Varro 1zori 1904