38 THE FORESTERS. 



The fabled Jove his bolts imperious hurled ; 

 Earth heard, and echoed back the peals profound, 

 And heaven's exalted regions shook around 

 With deep reluctance, ne'er to be forgot, 

 And many a lingering look, we left this spot, 

 Since called Olympus, worthier of the name 

 Than that so blazoned by the trump of fame. 

 Ye souls ! whom nature's glorious works delight, 

 Who chance to pass o*er this stupendous height, 

 Here turn aside; and, if serene the day, 

 This cliff sublime will all your toils repay; 

 Here regions wide your ravished eye will meet, 

 Hills, rivers, forests, lying at your feet : 

 Here to Columbia make your muskets roar, 

 While heaven's artillery thunders back encore. 



'Twas now dull twilight, trudging on we keep, 

 Where giddy Breakneck nods above the steep ; 

 And down the darkening forest slowly steer, 

 Where woods, receding, showed a dwelling near, 

 A painted frame, tall barracks filled with hay, 

 Clean white-washed railings raised along the way, 

 Young poplars, mixed with weeping willows green, 

 Rose o'er the gate and fringed the walk within ; 

 An air of neatness, gracing all arcund, 

 Bespoke that courtesy we so quickly found ; 

 The aged Judge, in grave apparel dressed, 

 To cushion'd chairs invites each weary guest; 

 O'er the rich carpet bids the table rise, 

 With all the sweets that India's clime supplies ; 

 And supper served with elegance, the glass 



