| |
| THEY told me southern land could boast | |
| Charms richer than mine own: | |
| Sun, moon, and stars of brighter glow, | |
| And winds of gentler tone; | |
| And parting from each olden haunt, | 5 |
| Familiar rock and tree, | |
| From that sweet vale I wandered far— | |
| Washed by the Genesee. | |
| |
| I pined beneath a foreign sky, | |
| Though birds, like harps in tune, | 10 |
| Lulled Winter on a couch of flowers | |
| Clad in the garb of June. | |
| In vain on reefs of coral broke | |
| The glad waves of the sea; | |
| For, like thy voice they sounded not, | 15 |
| My own dark Genesee! | |
| |
| When Christmas came, though round me grew | |
| The lemon-tree and lime, | |
| And the warm sky above me threw | |
| The blue of summer-time; | 20 |
| I thought of my loved northern home, | |
| And wished for wings to flee | |
| Where frost-bound, between frozen banks, | |
| Lay hushed the Genesee. | |
| |
| For the gray, mossed paternal roof | 25 |
| My throbbing bosom yearned, | |
| And ere the flight of many moons | |
| My steps I homeward turned; | |
| My heart, to joy a stranger long, | |
| Was tuned to rapture’s key, | 30 |
| When ear the murmur heard once more | |
| Of my own Genesee. | |
| |
| Ambition from the scenes of youth | |
| May others lure away | |
| To chase the phantom of renown | 35 |
| Throughout their little day; | |
| I would not, for a palace proud | |
| And slave of pliant knee, | |
| Forsake a cabin in thy vale, | |
| My own dark Genesee. | 40 |
| |
