Poems of America . THE sanset flings upon the seaIts golden gush of life and light;The waves with pleasant melody On the white sands are sparkling bright;Old Ocean, round his many isles,Like a fair infant sleeping, smiles :So would I sleep, and dream of own, my native land, my Tennessee ! Tall mountains with their snowy cones,Tar inland, bathed in sunshine, blaze; Like gray-haired giants on their thrones. Crowned with the young dawns golden rays. Toward them I lean, and fain would lie At the feet of those that pierce thy dearest land on earth to me,My own, my native land, my T
Poems of America . THE sanset flings upon the seaIts golden gush of life and light;The waves with pleasant melody On the white sands are sparkling bright;Old Ocean, round his many isles,Like a fair infant sleeping, smiles :So would I sleep, and dream of own, my native land, my Tennessee ! Tall mountains with their snowy cones,Tar inland, bathed in sunshine, blaze; Like gray-haired giants on their thrones. Crowned with the young dawns golden rays. Toward them I lean, and fain would lie At the feet of those that pierce thy dearest land on earth to me,My own, my native land, my Tennessee ! Landward and swift the sea-bird his strong and nervous wings In the blue wave, as home he hies,A truant, from his wanderings. He goes to seek his gentle mate. His young, with longing eyes that wait:So would I fain haste home to own, my native land, my Tennessee!. INTRODUCTORY. 39 Existence ! t is but toil and strife, —• Yet I 11 not murmur or repine,So that the sunset of my life, Sweet day, be clear and calm as thine;So that I take my last, long rest,Dear native land, in thy loved breast: Land of the gallant and the free ! My native, native land, my Tennessee! Albert Tike. KANSAS. THE KANSAS EMIGRANTS. WE cross the prairie as of oldThe pilgrims crossed the sea,To make the West, as they the East,The homestead of the free! We go to rear a wall of menOn Freedoms southern line. And plant beside the cotton-treeThe rugged Northern pine ! We re flowing from our native hills As our free rivers flow;The blessing of our Mother-land Is on us as we go. We go to plant her common schools *0n distant prairie swells,And give the Sabbaths of the wildThe music of her bells. 30 POEMS OF PLACES. Upbearing, like the Ark of old, The Bible iu our go to test the tiuth of God Against the fraud of man. No pause, nor rest, save where the streams That feed the
Size: 1428px × 1749px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectamerica, bookyear1882
