The Bride of Burton, Victory, and Other Poems
/ 'TTHIIE of the Middlesex 3ar. /. M!"//// /// d /■// A/s //>////• tiie BRIDE OF BURTON, VICTORY, OTHER POEMS. BY ROBERT B. CAVERLY. TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. LOWELL, MASS: PRINTED BY STONE & HUSK. 1872. TS ya 7^ .C 7/I17 l?7l Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by ROBERT B. CAVERLY, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. OHOCOKUA IS SLAIN. And ever since, from then to this, Not a breath of hope, nor breeze of bliss, Hath moved the woods of Burton. XX. Dark shadows came to chase the sun, The Indian hunter’s day was done, And the wood-lands wild were sighing; ’Tvwis then a shaft his heart had broken, Vengeance! the eternal fates betoken; Chocorua is dying. XXI. On that dread night and hitherto, The heavens let fall malarious dew, Far down these murky mountains; Not a flower in all the waste is known, The maple leaf is dry, half-grown, And death is in the fountains. 15 THE BRIDE OF BURTON. XXII. The moping owl hath ceased to hoot, The scrub oak falters at the root, And the snail is lank and weary; The fated fawn hath found his bed, Huge hawks, high flying, drop down dead Above that apex dreary. XXIII. Faded, the vales no fruits adorn, The hills are pale with poisoned corn, The flocks are lean, repining; No growth the panting pastures yield, And the staggering cattle roam the field, Forlorn, in death declining. XXIV. ’Tis thus we’re made the slaves of earth, Mope in miasmas, deep in dearth, Sad, from some bad beginning; 16 THEY COME IN THE CLOUDS.
[Show full text]