Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1891-10-07
For the SPECTATOR.
THE CYCLOPEAN TOWERS.

ton, Va. and near Mt. Solon, Va. Lovers o
the romantic will enjoy visit to them. The
writer in company with friends from Parnas
sus. Va, August, 1885, finds inspiration in thu
weird and majestic columns. Hence the fol-
lowing lines:
In awe. we stand beneath these grey old tow
the "Chimneys" by the early fathers styl
Whose massy stones were laid by Titan pow
ers,
The same that Pelion on Ossa piled,
And weird their frowning aspect, wild:
Sheer eighty feet they mount up toward tht
sky.
| And make the tallest feel as but child;
So careless, too. of Times corroding eye.
| Thy promise still to live, when Time tsel
shall die.
We gaze upon these columns. sharp and
| square,
| Inquisitive, though mute, to know their age.
Their brawny builders. and their quarry
where,
And try to read their written granite page,
But cannot though we every power engage:
They've seen the geologic changes past;
Were old and grey. when solon was a sage.
And are coeval with Creation vast.
For earth was young. indeed. when.frst they
| shadows cast.
Upon these pillars, Herculean. stern.
For centuries has forked lightning played,
And storms of every seas on have in turn
| Their heavy burden on hem fully laid,
| But slight impression anywhere Is made,
| While In robe of golden summer light,
They are to day, and often are, arrayed,
For sun and moon and stars, by day and night
Throw round them fairy charms that vary, bu
delight.
Perchance. a wandring chief with shawne'
braves
Has tarried here to spend a sleepless night
In horrid war>dance. such as savage Graves.
While. keeping watch upon each dizzy height
light.
When, like wolf In search of crouching fold
They sailed forth to murder with delight
Not as the pale-face would for spoil of gold,
But simply to reclaim their hunting-ground Of
old.
Romantic spot! where lovers might retire,
| And, mayhap, warrior oft with dusky maid,
Say Pocahontas. If you SO desire.
Has sat beneath their dense and dewy shade,
And watched the moon-beams that around
them played.
Or gathered wild.f1owers for her raven locks,
AS emblems of the troth>plight they had
made,
Or carved mnemonio signs upon the rocks,
That TO decipher now our every effort mocks
And why not they? Do we not do the same?
| And are ecstatic IN the blest employ
With friends Of precious memory who came,
| And here we quaf a truly scenic joy,
tow hxyo I,oc oil
We climb from niche to niche, from prop to
| prop.
And with them play, as urchin with toy;
Pick off the rock-scales just to let them drop.
| And airy seem as birds upon steeple-top.
We feel as in '-The garden of the Gods"
l or which we read so very much and hear
Nor will the wand'ring foot that daily plods
Volcanic-fields to find the wild and queer,
Be more requited anywhere than here:
These shafts like Egypt's obelisks, arise,
| AS monuments OF royal dead, appear;
Yea, in our fancy, we can have some sighs,
And for departed heroes utter bitter cries.
Not wholly nude, these polylithic towers,
For seams are opened that cemented were.
And in have gone the winged seeds, and show
ers;
Now, vine and fern rejoice to gether there.
The wreathing lichen, and the floret rare,
And grid with garl ands green the piles around i.
While crowning pines wave loftily In air:
Thus nature Is q tender mother found,
And weaves her leafy robes for rocks and
stony ground.
Legend might tell us Of a youthful pair.
Whom Fate decreed should not be wed, and
one;
How she, maiden, pure, and sweet and fair.
Her lovers life-glass having quickly run.
Leaped from the highest peak one morning
dun,
And sped her spirit from Its f1eshly cage
To meet with his beyond the setting sun;
But such we fin not on traditions page.
Though it might we'll have graced a rude, bar
baric age.
One summer day. nor was it long ago,
A festive party, gay, assembled here.
Both young and old with spirits all aglow,
But one there was, lad unknown to fear,
| A widows son, who climbed a facade sheer
OF highest tower, but, when he gained the
CREST
His comrades batting breath for louder cheer,
He dizzy grew. and fell-felI on his breast,
And lived! for angel watchers eased him down
to rest.
We loiter still on this historic ground,
Whose rugged citadels guard we'll the dell,
While hills and mountain turrets all around
Make up q scene on which we love to dwell,
And passive yield us to its magic spell;
| o who would not admire this silent nook!
And who would not its wonders proudly tell!
That others, also, might come here to look,
And read some ancient pages in Dame Ma
ture's book.
Would that our yeomanry thought less OF
| gold,
| Our women less of gaudiness in dress,
And more communion would with Nature
hold!
| YEA would admire more of earth's loveliness
In sea and sky. hill, dale and wilderness;
Thus charmed with perfumes and with varied
flowers,
With scenes. grand. beautiful, and number
less,
They would, in life. reap far more happy
| hours
And would more keenly feel Gods wonder
working powers.
| r. NJ. FUTILE.
| DEATH OF MRS. SUSAN MILLER Mrs
Susan Miller died at the home of her son.