SON of the stranger! wouldst thou take | |
| O’er yon blue hills thy lonely way, | |
| To reach the still and shining lake | |
| Along whose banks the west-winds play? | |
| Let no vain dreams thy heart beguile,— | 5 |
| Oh, seek thou not the Fountain Isle! | |
| |
| Lull but the mighty serpent king | |
| Midst the gray rocks, his old domain; | |
| Ward but the cougar’s deadly spring,— | |
| Thy step that lake’s green shore may gain; | 10 |
| And the bright Isle, when all is passed, | |
| Shall vainly meet thine eye at last! | |
| |
| Yes! there, with all its rainbow streams, | |
| Clear as within thine arrow’s flight, | |
| The Isle of Founts, the isle of dreams, | 15 |
| Floats on the wave in golden light; | |
| And lovely will the shadows be | |
| Of groves whose fruit is not for thee! | |
| |
| And breathings from their sunny flowers, | |
| Which are not of the things that die, | 20 |
| And singing voices from their bowers, | |
| Shall greet thee in the purple sky; | |
| Soft voices, e’en like those that dwell | |
| Far in the green reed’s hollow cell. | |
| |
| Or hast thou heard the sounds that rise | 25 |
| From the deep chambers of the earth? | |
| The wild and wondrous melodies | |
| To which the ancient rocks gave birth? | |
| Like that sweet song of hidden caves | |
| Shall swell those wood notes o’er the waves. | 30 |
| |
| The emerald waves!—they take their hue | |
| And image from that sunbright shore; | |
| But wouldst thou launch thy light canoe, | |
| And wouldst thou ply thy rapid oar, | |
| Before thee, hadst thou morning’s speed, | 35 |
| The dreamy land should still recede! | |
| |
| Yet on the breeze thou still wouldst hear | |
| The music of its flowering shades, | |
| And ever should the sound be near | |
| Of founts that ripple through its glades; | 40 |
| The sound, and sight, and flashing ray | |
| Of joyous waters in their play! | |
| |
| But woe for him who sees them burst | |
| With their bright spray showers to the lake! | |
| Earth has no spring to quench the thirst | 45 |
| That semblance in his soul shall wake, | |
| Forever pouring through his dreams | |
| The gush of those untasted streams! | |
| |
| Bright, bright, in many a rocky urn, | |
| The waters of our deserts lie, | 50 |
| Yet at their source his lip shall burn, | |
| Parched with the fever’s agony! | |
| From the blue mountains to the main | |
| Our thousand floods may roll in vain. | |
| |
| E’en thus our hunters came of yore | 55 |
| Back from their long and weary quest;— | |
| Had they not seen the untrodden shore? | |
| And could they midst our wilds find rest? | |
| The lightning of their glance was fled, | |
| They dwelt amongst us as the dead! | 60 |
| |
| They lay beside our glittering rills | |
| With visions in their darkened eye; | |
| Their joy was not amidst the hills | |
| Where elk and deer before us fly: | |
| Their spears upon the cedar hung, | 65 |
| Their javelins to the wind were flung. | |
| |
| They bent no more the forest bow, | |
| They armed not with the warrior band, | |
| The moons waned o’er them dim and slow,— | |
| They left us for the spirits’ land! | 70 |
| Beneath our pines yon greensward heap | |
| Shows where the restless found their sleep. | |
| |
| Son of the stranger! if at eve | |
| Silence be midst us in thy place, | |
| Yet go not where the mighty leave | 75 |
| The strength of battle and of chase! | |
| Let no vain dreams thy heart beguile— | |
| Oh, seek thou not the Fountain Isle! | |
| |
