26 



TJic Ainericayi Ans^lcr 



Was not discerned by living mortal's eye. 

 On her unwritten pages silence looks, 



And reads as plainly as in printed books ; 

 And as she reads, so clear if seems to be. 



Thou art a waif left by retreating sea, 



When strange upheavals changed the first 

 great plan. 

 To pave the way for prehistoric man. 

 Along thy shores in rich profusion strewn, 



Are fossil forms by cunning hand deft hewn, 

 Which tell us that at some far mystic day 



Old ocean left them stranded in the clay ; 

 Where, sleeping through the ages, they at last 



Do reappear to tell us of the past. 

 The wondrous past, unfolding like a scroll. 

 On wings of light the new-born ages roll. 

 Eons have sped, years piled on years have 

 flown. 

 And time's dark locks to hoary white have 

 grown 

 Since morning broke, and found thee nestling 

 here. 

 And golden sunbeams kissed thy waters 

 clear. 

 Hast thou a tongue? Methinks I've heard 

 thee speak, 

 As oft alone I've pressed thy blushing cheek 

 At rosy dawn, at evening's dewy hour, 



When thou dost wield thy most bewitching 

 power. 

 Thy still sweet voice, borne on the whisp'ring 

 wind. 

 Is only heard by sympathizing mind. 



In tune with all the chords of Nature's heart. 



From out whose solitude live echoes start. 

 Oft times while list'ning with an eager ear, 



The sound of sylvan voices too I hear. 

 Which, trembling on the air, awakes the 

 thought 

 That with wild history all thy shores are 

 fraught. 

 They tell us that in ages past of time. 



When virgin forests were in all their prime, 

 E'er yet rude man had changed dame Na- 

 ture's course 

 To suit his plans for better or for worse — 

 The wolf and bear prowled through the track- 

 less waste. 

 To gratify by night their savage taste ; 

 From shady hill-sides to thy stony brink. 

 The moose and red-deer came ofttimes to 

 drink; 

 Through thickets dense the partridge winged 

 its flight. 



And owls came forth at dark'ning of the 

 night; 

 In beechen woods wild turkeys roamed at 

 large, 

 And wild ducks nested on thy sedgy marge ; 

 The leaping trout disturbed thy tranquil wave. 

 As fluttering insect found a watery grave. 



But wilder far the history of that race, 



That on thy shores found an abiding place; 

 Poetic legends tell us of a day. 



That in the past was many moons away, 

 When opening earth brought forth a tribe of 

 men. 



Destined their likes ne'er to be seen again; 

 The noble redman and his faithful squaw 



Looked down on thee from off Genundewah. 

 His wigwam in the shade was hid from view, 



Across thy bosom sped his bark canoe ; 

 The forests echoed with the whoop of strife. 



When braves went forth with tomahawk and 

 knife ; 

 In times of peace, in simplest forms he knew, 



He worshipped one great spirit — Manitou ; 

 Or seated round the night camp's blazing Are, 



In younger braves heroic deeds inspire. 

 He gathered food from Nature's bounteous 

 store, 



And friends were welcomed at his wigwam 

 door : 

 These scenes have changed and thou a wit- 

 ness art. 



For in them all thou took'st an active part. 



It was decreed that here a nobler race 



In after years should find a dwelling place. 

 As westward, ho! the march of empire pours 

 A flood of human souls on freedom's shores. 

 From distant waters, in their big canoes, 

 Came paleface pioneers, who dared to 

 choose 

 A home in forest-wilds, where virgin soil 

 Would yield rich harvests for their earnest 

 toil. 

 The stately trees they felled to clear the 

 land, 

 And built them cabins with untiring hand. 

 Primeval forests melted at the stroke 



Of settler's ax, whose ringing blows oft 

 broke 

 The lonely quietude that reigned supreme. 

 Except for hoot of owl or eagle's scream, 

 And in their place behold the smiling fields. 

 That food for man in great abundance 

 yields. 



