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(Excerpt)
I SATE upon the lofty Tryon’s brow, | |
| While yet the sun was struggling up the east; | |
| Broad was the realm around, fragrant below | |
| The plains, with summer fruits and flowers increased. | |
| The soul and eye were at perpetual feast | 5 |
| On beauty; and the exquisite repose | |
| Of nature, from the striving world released, | |
| Taught me forgetfulness of mortal throes, | |
| Life’s toils, and all the cares that wait on mortal woes. | |
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| Never was day more cloudless in the sky, | 10 |
| Never the earth more beautiful in view: | |
| Rose-hued, the mountain-summits gathered high, | |
| And the green forests shared the purple hue; | |
| Midway the little pyramids, all blue, | |
| Stood robed for ceremonial, as the sun | 15 |
| Rose gradual in his grandeur, till he grew | |
| Their God, and sovereign devotion won, | |
| Lighting the loftiest towers as at a service done. | |
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| Nor was the service silent; for the choir | |
| Of mountain winds took up the solemn sense | 20 |
| Of that great advent of the central fire, | |
| And poured rejoicing as in recompense: | |
| One hardly knew their place of birth, or whence | |
| Their coming; but through gorges of the hills, | |
| Swift stealing, yet scarce breathing, they went thence | 25 |
| To gather on the plain, which straightway thrills | |
| With mightiest strain that soon the whole wide empire fills. | |
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| From gloomy caverns of the Cherokee; | |
| From gorges of Saluda; from the groves | |
| Of laurel, stretching far as eye may see, | 30 |
| In valleys of Iselica; from great coves | |
| Of Tensas, where the untamed panther roves, | |
| The joyous and exulting winds troop forth, | |
| Singing the mountain strain that freedom loves,— | |
| A wild but generous song of eagle birth, | 35 |
| That summons, far and near, the choral strains of earth. | |
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| They come from height and plain, from mount and sea,— | |
| They gather in their strength, and, from below, | |
| Sweep upwards to the heights,—an empire free, | |
| Marching with pomp and music,—a great show | 40 |
| Triumphal,—like an ocean in its flow, | |
| Glorious in roar and billow, as it breaks | |
| O’er earth’s base barriers: first, ascending slow, | |
| The mighty march its stately progress takes, | |
| But, rushing with its rise, its roar the mountain shakes. * * * * * | 45 |
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