The Dalles times-mountaineer. [volume] (The Dalles, Or.) 1882-1904, 1890-01-11
Beautiful Willamette.
Salem Statesman.

|
The poem, beautiful Willamette" il
without doubt the best production of any
Oregon poet. 1t was written about 1870
and if the writer remembers correctly
first appeared in the Oregonian at Port.
land, and was copied into the Statesman,
and other Oregon newspapers, after which
it received national notice. In 1878 1t
was printed in the old Pacific Coast
Fourth Reader" Samuel L. Simpson
| was the author of the poem and the series
of Readers. The old Pacific Coast Read
ers were adopted by the state OF Oregon.
and were used in the pnblIc schools for
several years-so that every school boy
of from six to twelve years ago is familiar
with Oregon's greatest poem, beautiful
Willamette" and it is partly for their
benefit that it is below reproduced.
When the poem first appeared In the
newspapers, 1t was under the beading,
''Ad Willlamettam," the Latin tor To the
Willamette, but in the Fourth Reader it
appeared under beautiful Willamette"
And now comes the sad part Of the
history of the great poem, which has
heretoft re been unpublished, The poem
was written at Corvallis. The author
had been on protracted spree, and, this
then being unusual with him, his wife be,
ing yet with him, he was Respondent, and
went down to the beautiful Willamette"
to. throw himself into the "crystal deeps"
and thus end his sorrows, But the
witchery of the lovely river aroused his
poetical genius, and Beautiful Villa
mette" was born to live as long as the
river runs. Samuel L. Simpson, the au-
thor, now resides in Portland. Of late
years he has written some fairly good
poetry; but he has become verItable
Bohemian, and is victim of his appe-
tite for the beverages prescribed by the
w. G. T. Z.
From the Cascades frozen gorges,
Leaping like child at play.
Winding, widening through the valley,
Bright Willamette glides away;
Onward ever,
Lovely river,
Softly calling to the sea;
Time that Gears US,
Mains and marks US,
Leaves no track or trench on thee!
Springs green witchery is weaving
Braid and border for thy side;
Grace forever haunts tLv journey,
Beauty dimples on thy tide.
Through the purple gates Of morning.
Now thy roseate rpples dance;
Col len, then, when day departing,
On thy waters trails his lance;
Waltzipg, flashing,
Thinking, ashing,
Limpid, volatile and free
Always hurried
To be buried
In the bitter mJon.mad sea
In thy crystal deeps, inverted,
Swings picture Of the sky,
Like those wavering hopes Of Aidenn
Dimly In our dreams that lie;
Clouded often, drowned in turmoil,
Faint and lovely, far away
Wreathing sunshine on the morr' W.
Breathing fragrance round to-day.
Love would wander
Here and ponder
Hither poetry would dream;
Life's old questions,
Sad suggestions.
"Whence and whither? through thy stream.
On the roaring wastes OF ocean,
Soon thy scattered waves shall toss;
Mid the surges' rythmic thunder
Shall thy silver tongue be lost.
Oh! thy gmmering rush Of gladness
Mocks this turbid life Of mine,
Racing to the wild Forever,
Down the sloping paths of time!
Onward ever,
Lovely river,
Softly calling to the sea;
Time that scars US,
Mains and mars us,
Leaves no track Lr trench on thee!
Sam L. Simpson. |