170 



Old forest-pines, alarmed such sight to see, 

 Are startled from their staid propriety. 

 And far behind us, as we speed away, 

 Lo, how the "green-robed Senators" Chassez ! 

 Birch-groves in whirling waltz go spinning round, 

 The grazing cattle in wild antics bound; 

 And the deep thickets, as our train sweeps by. 

 Send forth a scornful hiss or mournful sigh. 

 Will not one day the good old times come back. 

 And grass again o'ergrow the iron track? 

 Oh would but for one day some power restore 

 The aspect this enchanting region wore, 

 When, forty years ago, companions three, — 

 A small, select, congenial company, — 

 From sultry Naumkeag came on foot to take 

 Their fill of Nature's charms in wild Waumbeck. 

 Again those sweet and winding ways I tread, 

 Whei'e Saco rippled o'er his pebbly bed. 

 Or, lost from view awhile, anon was seen, 

 Twinkling like silver down some dark ravine. 

 Up through the valley's windings, day by day, 

 lu pleasant chat we sauntered on our way ; 

 (Haley, our spaniel, zig-zagging the while 

 A lively chase of leagues to every mile). 



The morn and evening walk — the noon-day rest — 



Day's parting salutation in the west — 



"The breezy call of incense breathing morn" — 



The locusts' hum — the rustle of the corn — 



The swinging sign-board of the wayside Inn, 



('Tis pleasant to remember such have been I) — 



The weeklj' clothes' wash in the mountain brook, 



Beneath the bridge in some sequestered nook — 



The muttering thunder and the pattering rain — 



The hurried fording of the stream to gain 



Yon hospitable hut, and shelter thei-e. 



Till the bright sun broke through the balmy air — 



Then, as we take our onward way once more, 



Earth's billows closing in behind, before. 



The spectacle from some commanding height 



Of such enchantment breaking on the sight. 



That we too felt as if the first were we 



"That ever burst into tliat silent sea" 



Of mountain pines— these memories throng again 



Upon the soul— a visionary train. 



