rvJ5o44 
 
%ICE, TWEMTY-FIVE CENTS. 
 
 I SONGS I 
 
 I OF S 
 
 The Cumberlandsj 
 
 4^^y 
 
 
 By ROBERT P. HUDSON, 
 
 Author of "Roving Footsteps,"' etc, ^ 
 
 C 
 

SONGS 
 
 OF 
 
 The Cumberlands; 
 
 A SERIES OF POEMS DESCRIPTIVE OF 
 
 SCENES AND INCIDENTS AMONG THE CUMBERLANDS 
 
 AND THROUGHOUT THE SOUTH. 
 
 By ROBERT P. HUDSON, 
 
 Author of "Roving Footsteps," etc. 
 
 NASHVILLE, TENN.: "^"*^'*" ''''' 
 
 C. R. & H. H. HATCH, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 1887. 
 
 , J^'L ID ^00. cj 
 

 Copyright, 1887, by ROBERT P. HUDSON. 
 

 PROEM 
 
 ^'^ The Cumberlands, reaching through Kentucky, Ten- 
 - nessee, and North Georgia, have lately been justly cele- 
 brated in the stories of various prose writers, but never 
 before have they appeared in song. It is hoped that this 
 little volume is not misplaced in attempting to fill the 
 vacancy thus existing. 
 
 The author wishes to say that these songs were not 
 written with a view to publication, but were addressed to 
 friends as his experiences in life. He has not made 
 poesy a business, but a pastime. It is only after the toils 
 of the field that he has had time to attend the flowers 
 of his litde garden.; Whether, in his attempts on Parnas- 
 sus, he has reached the court of Erato, the reader 
 must say. 
 
fojSTENT^. 
 
 Whence These Songs? 9 
 
 Where Fountains Leap ^^ 
 
 The Caney Fork " 
 
 Laughing Spring ^4 
 
 Chickamauga ^4 
 
 Sequachee 
 
 Rollicking Rivers '7 
 
 The Old Tennessee ^^ 
 
 Go, Love, to the World 2° 
 
 Sunny Eyes 
 
 Gushing Heart ^^ 
 
 Tennessee ^ 
 
 Loved Ones Afar ^7 
 
 Deaf at Last ^9 
 
 Soul in vSong ^^ 
 
 Ahapopka , ^ 
 
 Walk in Florida 33 
 
 Gone to the Blest ^^ 
 
 At Her Grave ^ 
 
 Echoing Vales 37 
 
 Montezuma's Sea 
 
 Fare You Well ^^ 
 
 Stroll in the Southland 43 
 
 Spirit in Heaven ^^ 
 
Vlll TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Sonnet to Spring 47 
 
 Cupid's Captive 48 
 
 Oothtanakee 49 
 
 Blissful Dreams 51 
 
 Hopes in Ashes 54 
 
 Be Mine in Heaven , 56 
 
 Wild Piper 58 
 
 World's Exposition 58 
 
 Thornless Flowers 60 
 
 Memories of Georgia 61 
 
 Bright Be Your Days 65 
 
 Say, Do You, Darling 67 
 
 Lost in Florida 69 
 
 Storm at Sea 71 
 
 Land of Flowers 72 
 
 Ocklawaha 74 
 
 Dark Warriors Are Where ? 76 
 
 Crystal Caverns 77 
 
 Sunset 79 
 
^ONQ^ Of THE j]uMBEI^LA|^Dp. 
 
 WHENCE THESE SONGS? 
 
 "Whence these songs?" the children ask me, 
 As they press their lips to mine ; 
 
 " Have you others?" yet they task me, — 
 Little fairies half divine. 
 
 Youthful muses overtake me. 
 
 When my country bursts to spring ; 
 
 Thousand happy voices make me 
 Thrill with pleasure, so I sing. 
 
 Every spike that spreads its sweetness 
 Where the loud-note songsters throng; 
 
 Every mountain in its greatness. 
 Whispers to my heart a song. 
 
 'Tis the music of the wildwood, 
 That you read in rhythmic chimes, 
 
 'Tis the stories of my childhood 
 Brought to me from olden times. 
 
 'Tis the lofty palms that greet me. 
 And the voice of Southern seas ; 
 
 'Tis the children dear that meet me 
 Everywhere, that give me these. 
 
10 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 WHERE FOUNTAINS LEAP. 
 
 Where fountains leap and rivers laugh, 
 O'er which soft shades as playful fleet, 
 
 And mountain peaks the heavens quaff, — 
 Exults my heart, rebound my feet. 
 
 To-day I press the mountain's height, 
 Mid golden beams, o'er streamlets free ; 
 
 To morrow, where will fall my light ? 
 I'll laugh through vales, I'll kis-^ the sea. 
 
 But whether splendid art may gleam. 
 Or gorgeous phase be pictured there, 
 
 Know first your beauteous face will beam, 
 Your name be whispered first in prayer. 
 
 I love your mountains, love the sea, 
 This glorious light mid vales I tread, 
 
 But love that lives with you and me 
 Will be a sweeter radiance shed. 
 
 Oh ! still as fondly truthful prove. 
 This foretaste is not all we'll see ; 
 
 But know, while bursts my heart with love, 
 For you its sweetest pangs will be. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 11 
 
 THE CANEY FORK. 
 
 (A triViutary of the Cumberland.) 
 
 Crystal river, circling, seething. 
 Foaming river, babbling, moaning, 
 Pearly river, bright, reflecting. 
 Darkling river, oft defiant, 
 Giant river, now unwieldy. 
 Wild, deep river, yet so gentle, 
 Laughing river, ever happy. 
 Playful river, always pleading, 
 
 my river of all rivers ! 
 
 Clustered round your drowning cascades. 
 Filling, blessing all your waters, 
 Resting on your cliffs and mountains. 
 Live my dearest, sweetest memories. 
 O my earliest friend an({ comfort, 
 
 1 have spent so many summers 
 Wading, trolling in your rapids. 
 Rowing on your circling eddies, 
 
 Trod your vales from morn till evening, 
 Heard my voice from cliffs respondded, 
 Shelteied in your caves from tempests, 
 Swam your cooling tide by moonlight, 
 No, I never can forget you. 
 Never, never breaks my fondness. 
 
 Flowery isles and rippling fountains. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 13 
 
 Cloudless skies with balmy breezes, 
 Towering rocks with deepest shadows, 
 Water falls half hid with vapor. 
 Lovely girls that kiss you, bless you, — 
 MaUe your course a tour of rapture, 
 Most endeared of all the rivers, 
 Mimic sea, the heaven's mirror ! 
 
 When through other lands I wander. 
 Though I meet with cliffs as lofty, 
 Water falls that speak as loudly, | 
 Yet I find me sighing, sighing. 
 
 For your rocky banks, my river ! 
 
 In my heart enthroned forever,. 
 Time nor fate can e'er depose you, 
 
 Far though be my straying footsteps, 
 
 I will oft return to greet you. 
 
 Rest from cares that daily haunt me. 
 
 Shun a world of envy, censure, 
 
 View the sands my feet imprinted. 
 
 Seek your cliffs, my early shelter, 
 
 Plunge into your throbbing bosom, 
 
 Source of all my youthful pleasure, 
 
 O my river of all rivers ! 
 
14 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 LAUGHING SPRING. 
 
 Patient spring has suffered so 
 Waiting for the frosts to go, 
 Moved at last the hoary fields 
 She I er gentle influence yields ; 
 Waked to life each forest rings, 
 Earth the brightest verdure brings. 
 Sold to joy I seek the wood, 
 Trillums, vines obstruct the road. 
 Lucid leaves shut out the sky. 
 Brooklets mumble, zeph\ rs sigh ; 
 Through each dear, secluded grove 
 Follow me if spring you love! 
 Ever blossom, ever ring. 
 Gentle, lucid, laughing spring ! 
 
 CHICK AM A UGA. 
 
 This evening a shudder came o'er me 
 As I tramped this broad battlefield o'er. 
 
 And thought of the feet that before me 
 Had hurried there dripping with gore. 
 
 I thought of each struggle so gory 
 
 With thousands that wrestled for might. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 15 
 
 Each call on the soldier for glory 
 
 With the plea that he fought for the right. 
 
 The plain is a ruin of forest 
 
 And fort that depict the fierce fray ; 
 
 The plowshare, in efforts the poorest, 
 Would hide each grim vestige away. 
 
 Broken bayonets are seen at each fastness. 
 There molder the musket and blade ; 
 
 The graveyard bespeaks in its vastness 
 The havoc these relics have made. 
 
 I turned from the field as the shadows 
 Marked out the long lines of the foe, 
 
 To picture the orphans and widows, 
 
 x\nd hearts yet unsoothed in their woe ; 
 
 The rattle of steel seemed to follow, 
 The guns from each rampart to sj^eak, 
 
 I heard the poor sufferers hollo — 
 O fearful imagining, break ! 
 
16 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 SEQUACHEE. 
 
 A feathery cloud moves through the sky, 
 Green velvet lawns spread to the west, 
 
 Waves play upon the wheat and rye, 
 The partridge weaves her grassy nest. 
 
 The lucid corn extends its arms 
 To catch the honey-dews that fall, 
 
 The gardens blush beneath their charms. 
 The pea cocks dart about and squall. 
 
 From every hill a streamlet breaks, 
 And rivers mirror back the scene ; 
 
 The shadowy wood with twitters wakes, 
 And cattle wallow on the green. 
 
 Blue mountain peaks jut up beyond 
 The para-iise that spreads between ; 
 
 Some fairy must have waved his wand, 
 And built this happy, heavenly scene. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBKRLANDS. '' 
 
 ROLLICKING RIVERS. 
 
 Ho ! broad is the space that divides us, 
 
 The rivers that laugh the day through ; 
 Ho! rough are the crags I've been crossing, 
 
 They hide your sweet home from my view. 
 Though broad be ibis space that divides us, 
 
 No spirit so kind it assures ; 
 Though wide be these rollicking rivers 
 
 They mirror no home like to yours. 
 
 'Tis a memory loved that goes with me, 
 
 Of days in our tramps through your groves 
 'Tis a blessing to dream thus forever 
 
 Of things that my spirit so loves. 
 Then remember, sweet lady, though parted, 
 
 I dream of you, love you the same ; 
 What though there be^spaces between us, 
 
 I know they exist but in name. 
 Come nights with your chill, dewy mantle, 
 
 Gleam dimly, ye stars, from above. 
 This world has a charm while yet lingers 
 
 A hope of my old, dearest love. 
 
 Roll laughing or mad, ye deep rivers. 
 
 And spread, ye broad plains, as you will, 
 
 You cannot divide me and loved ones. 
 My spirit will live with them still. 
 
18 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 THE OLD TENNESSEE. 
 
 Shadowed by mountains that play with the cloud, 
 Marked in your course by the gray rocks of time, 
 
 Dark, rushing waters that sprays often shroud, 
 River, the road that you tread is sublime ! 
 
 Gathering the bright, sportive streams as you move. 
 River, you've parted the heights that oppose ; 
 
 Leaving the hills far behind T so love, 
 
 Through valleys romantic your rapid flood goes. 
 
 Borne on your bosom your march I've pursued. 
 Seen you united with floods not your own ; 
 
 Doubting, how often my hopes you've renewed ! 
 River, I love you for times that are gone. 
 
 Spring ushers in and your long fertile vales, 
 River, outbloom all the rest of the land ; 
 
 Autumn returns, but your cqrn never fails. 
 
 Loaded with nuts here your tall hickories stand. 
 
 Angling, how often I've rowed o'er your tide ! 
 
 Sporting how oft I have known your embrace ! 
 Often have stood on your steep, pearly side, 
 
 Viewing the moon as it danced on your face. 
 
 Mirroring back the grand scenes where you rove. 
 River unbounded, flow ever as free ! 
 
 Others may choose what they will for their home. 
 Give 7)16 a home by the old Tennessee ! 
 
-Shadowed by mountains that play with the cloud, 
 Marked in your course by the gray rocks of time. 
 
 Page 1 8. 
 
20 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 GO, LOVE, TO THE iVORLD. 
 
 Go, love, to the world with your beauty, 
 And seek what you find not in me ; 
 
 They, too, may make loving a duty — 
 I know that you long to be free. 
 
 Go, love, to another while youthful. 
 Your love-lighted visage will wm, 
 
 But know he can ne'er be as truthful. 
 As constantly kind as I've been. 
 
 Give your heart to his fires as a fuel. 
 As fiercely he joined in the strife; 
 
 But, darling, remember how cruel 
 
 You break the dear dream of my life ! 
 
 Go, leave me the world's cold derision. 
 They cannot reprove me too much, 
 
 And learn that your hopes are a vision, 
 A bubble that bursts with your touch. 
 
 Go, learn that deceivers are many, 
 The faithful and loving are few ; 
 
 When a friend you have found rot in any, 
 Come back and I still will be true. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 So when in life's desert you welter 
 
 With hopes that are mangled and low, 
 
 Remember in me there's a shelter 
 Awaiting your pleasure as now. 
 
 Nuw wandering by Jordan's cold river 
 I give up t*»e hope I once knew ; 
 
 How peaceful my days had they never 
 Been crossed by a heart so untrue ! 
 
 I'll strive not to grieve though you sever 
 The cords that my heart fondly wove. 
 
 'Tis better to lose you than never 
 
 To have had the sweet pleasure of love. 
 
 Then go to the world with your graces, 
 You've a cloudless and beautiful view ; 
 
 You'll meet with more lovable faces, 
 But never a spirit as true. 
 
 21 
 
22 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 SUNNY EYES. 
 
 I cannot see your face by night 
 
 When shine unveiled those histrous spheres, 
 For in their fierce electric light 
 
 They blind me, if not dimmed with tears ; 
 'Tis when a cloud envelops Jove 
 We scan the burning space above. 
 
 Sometimes, like Dido, I forget 
 
 Those orbs cannot be looked upon. 
 
 So, venturing from my screening net, 
 I fall to plead before the throne. 
 
 But, just as when I view the sun, 
 
 I shield my blinded eyes and run. 
 
 So pass the years, I cannot view 
 
 Those dazzling lights but when a tear 
 
 Flows o'er them its obstructing hue 
 
 To dim the immortal phase they wear ; 
 
 Then weep to break the blinding light, 
 
 And soothe me with unbroken sight. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 23 
 
 GUSHING HEART. 
 
 Say, whither will a finite start 
 In search of words that prove 
 
 A gushing, gushing, gushing heart 
 That gushes o'er with love ? 
 
 No, tell me not mid severed thought 
 Such truths as this may shine, 
 
 There never was a fondness wrought 
 In time as true as mine. 
 
 No, never mortal love's its name 
 By time and space subdued, 
 
 Mine is a bright celestial flame, 
 Though bursting yet renewed ; 
 
 For henceforth when I wish I know. 
 Though space be rolled between, 
 
 Before me as in heaven will glow 
 Your beauty sweet, serene. 
 
 Then let this sphere of nature part, 
 
 No changes can it prove ; 
 In heaven I'll own this gushing heart 
 
 Is wholly, truly love. 
 

 
 B.right, peaceful homes reflected here 
 
 In rivers that seem but the sky." — Page 25, 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 25 
 
 TENNESSEE. 
 
 Resplendent sun with i^lorious light, 
 Whose parting leaves the evening lull 
 
 To stud the sky with stars so bright, 
 'Tis here you are most beautiful. 
 
 O crystal streams from mountain's peak, 
 Whose waters every sport assure, 
 
 And thousand springs from hills that break, 
 The Nvorld has nothing else as pure ! 
 
 beauteous vales that spread between 
 These mountain heights and picture bliss, 
 
 Fanned by a breeze from skies serene. 
 There's not another scene like this ! 
 
 Bright, peaceful homes reflected here 
 In rivers that seem but the sky, 
 
 Shadowed by trees and rocks as dear, 
 No lovelier prospects meet the eye ! 
 
 Dear, sighing groves, I want to find 
 Your shadows by some sparkling brook, 
 
 And, basking in the cooling wind. 
 Give up the eve to pen and book ! 
 
 1 want to find a water-mill 
 
 That rumbles far up some ravine, 
 
26 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 For there I know the blissful thrill 
 Of solitude in peace serene. 
 
 I love to know the peace that shrouds 
 
 These fields where armies spent their, might, 
 
 Or walk among the floating clouds 
 Of Lookout Mountain's dizzy height. 
 
 There's not a dream the age records 
 Of iron wheels that banish space, 
 
 There's not a blessing earth affords, 
 But in its glory here we trace. 
 
 Young Spring, 'tis here your sweetest stroke 
 Dissolves in lovelier depths I see ; 
 
 Each flowery bank and shadowy oak 
 Affords a paradise for me. 
 
 Oft by the noisy water fall 
 
 I view the tides that whirl and seethe. 
 
 Or listen to the pewit's call 
 
 While strolling where the willows wreathe. 
 
 My Tennessee, from east to west 
 Yours is the fairest earth imparts, 
 
 There's not another land so blest 
 With ]>retty girls and noble hearts. 
 
 O Tennessee, the rich and great, 
 Forever thus your triumphs be ! 
 
 Let others seek some other state, 
 I'll live and die in Tennessee. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 27 
 
 LOVED ONES A EAR. 
 
 On the soft gleaming sands of the sea-shore to night 
 
 I wander and gaze on the sea ; 
 The full moon on high, with her arrowy light, 
 
 Gilds nature with beauty for me. 
 
 The cool, balmy breezes come whispering along 
 With the billows that thunder ashore ; 
 
 The mocking-bird, piping his varied song, 
 Is heard above Ocean's loud roar. 
 
 Wave rises and rushes to fall on the shore 
 Where its comrade soon dashes its spray ; 
 
 Like armies they come, while the columns before 
 Forever are melting away. 
 
 I gather the sea-shells for loved ones afar. 
 
 From whose kindness I long have been gone ; 
 
 They kiss me and whisper, " Wherever you are 
 Forget not the hearts yet your own." 
 
 I love the deep ocean, the sea-shore, this light 
 That gilds the broad prospect for me. 
 
 But I'd rather be back with those loved ones to-night 
 Than gaze on this beauteous sea. 
 

 o -^ 
 
 ■U ."III 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 29 
 
 DEAF AT LAST. 
 
 Sweetheart whom I thought sincere, 
 Who my pleadings stooped to hear, 
 
 Is deaf at last; 
 Though I speak with brazen throat, 
 Though I use the timbrel's note, 
 
 She hears no blast. 
 
 Roarings from the dark, deep sea, 
 Matins from the citron tree 
 
 And apricot, 
 All a lover's sad lament 
 With the pine-tree's moan, I've sent,- 
 
 She hears them not. 
 
 Jessamine's from the hammocks deep, 
 Golden fruits in bounteous heap. 
 
 And shells from seas ; 
 Plumes from wild-birds timid, brave. 
 Views of beauteous lakes, I gave, — 
 
 They failed to please. 
 
 Oh ! the times my muse implored, 
 Sweetheart yet the more ignored ; 
 When parted we 
 
30 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 Said she, " I'll neglect no more, 
 'Tween us though as ne'er before 
 Should roll the sea." 
 
 Favored thus I trusting roved, 
 She again has faithless proved ; 
 
 My sweetiieart, gone ! 
 Never did I b'lieve a breast 
 Where so many virtues rest 
 
 Was wanting one. 
 
 Walking 'lone on Flora's shore 
 I shall hear old Ocean's roar. 
 
 And hope, erelong, 
 Happy, gentle, waking spring 
 Her remembered smiles will bring 
 
 To land of song. 
 
 At the morning's golden gate 
 I, condemned to sigh and wait, 
 
 IvOok o'er the sea ; 
 Spring with tidings flits along, 
 Waves roll in with smile and song. 
 
 But none for me. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 SOUL IN SONG. 
 
 31 
 
 Did not I see your fingers move 
 To notes that spoke in tones of love, 
 Rebound the living keys along, 
 Thus sweeping off my soul in song ? 
 I gazed upon the instrument 
 And wondered not, its tones were lent, 
 I knew the melodies it spoke 
 Forth from your heavenly spirit broke 
 I knew the airs I heard it roll 
 Were as they lived within your soul ; 
 I gazed upon your calm, fair face, 
 To day my eyes' loved resting-place, 
 I knew a soul was peering through 
 Those tender eyes of ocean hue, 
 That pictured in your angel mien. 
 Was most of heaven earth had seen. 
 Each shadow drew its length away, 
 The twilight grew as bright as day. 
 My eyes were fixed immovably 
 Upon the soul that spoke so gay ; 
 If in my heart grief had a place 
 Your music ravaged every trace. 
 
 Dear lady, strike those keys once more 
 
 And let me know my raptures o'er, 
 
 No sweeter pain I ever knew 
 Than when your music through me flew. 
 
32 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 AHAPOPKA. 
 
 (One of Florida's largest lakes.) 
 
 Ahapopka, laughing sea, 
 
 Mirror of your shores and sky, 
 
 Take these simple flowers from me, 
 Never more you'll greet my eye ! 
 
 I have stemmed your rippled tide, 
 Laughed u^on your placid face, 
 
 I have slumbered by your side. 
 Sported in your cool embrace. 
 
 Now those happy days are o'er, 
 Soon I quit your sunny isles, 
 
 Sad to day I walk your shore. 
 Take my tears instead of smiles. 
 
 Lonely is my sable bower, 
 
 I have left its silent room ; 
 It has not a bird or flower 
 
 That can cheer a heart of gloom. 
 
 All your beauteous shores afford 
 Gave my life a happier birth ; 
 
 Where are scenes like these restored ? 
 Where is heaven so much on earth ? 
 
 You are beautiful, O sea ! 
 
 More than words like mine can tell ; 
 Still your charms will live with me, 
 
 Ahapopka, fare you well ! 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 33 
 
 WALK IN FLORIDA. 
 
 Zephyr flitting o'er the seas, 
 
 Wooing e'er this land of spring, 
 
 Zephyr with the spicy breeze, 
 Fan me with your cooling wing ! 
 
 Kiss me ! I was late relieved 
 From old Winter's icy clutch ; 
 
 Kiss me ! I am not deceived, 
 'Tis your lips' delightful touch. 
 
 Day and night sweet notes I hear, 
 
 Filling every citrus grove ; 
 Genial spirits hold me near, 
 
 Angels greet me where I rove. 
 
 Thousand lakes embraced with flowers 
 Glad in every walk, my eyes ; 
 
 Golden fruits and cooling bowers, 
 Beckon as the morning flies. 
 
 Water-fowls of beauteous plume, 
 Fishes sportman's arts decoy, 
 
 Blooming groves with heaven's perfume, 
 Make this land a scene of joy. 
 
 2 
 
34 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLAND8. 
 
 GONE TO THE BLEST 
 
 This day they have buried my treasure 
 Where oft we have playfully trod, 
 
 My beauty beyond mortal measure, 
 Too soon to be pressed by the sod. 
 
 O light in the lovely to-morrow, 
 
 Refracted but beauteous ray ! 
 You leave us the burdening sorrow, 
 
 The darkness that follows the day. 
 
 Too bleak was the breath of December 
 
 To nurture a dahlia so pure ; 
 You have gone to the blest, but remember 
 
 You leave us the brunt to endure. 
 
 The miscreant Death, ere he prest you, 
 Concealed not his sighs as he stood, 
 
 But the angels rejoiced and caressed you. 
 To give you the home of the good. 
 
 You have gone from the sinful and fleeting, 
 Where specious Temptation allures ; 
 
 In heaven will next be our meeting 
 If our lives are as perfect as yours. 
 
SONGS OF THE CtJMBERLANDS. S5 
 
 You have gone to a world where your equals 
 And likes your companions will be ; 
 
 Where love is your life, and the sequels 
 Of truth are the joys you will see. 
 
 You have gone from the suffering and dying, 
 Where love is born but to be crossed ; 
 
 But think of the hearts that are sighing. 
 And 7nine that is wounded the most. 
 
 O lady, beloved but immortal, 
 
 Turn back but to soothe the bereft ! 
 Look, love, from your spiritual portal. 
 
 As we walk in the light you have left ! 
 
 Good-bye, my beloved beyond measure ! 
 
 Your pean is heard from above ; 
 Your smile that was most of our pleasure 
 
 Now beams on the angels of love. 
 
 Good-bye ! but the laurel shall ever 
 
 Bloom over your dust as in May, 
 And know from our loving hearts never 
 
 Will fade the first memory away. 
 
36 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 AT HER GRAVE. 
 
 I heard that the Lord of all creatures 
 Had takf-.n my angel He gave ; 
 
 I hastened to gaze on her features, 
 But only returned to her grave. 
 
 The breezes were cold and outspoken, 
 And freshly upturned was the sod ; 
 
 I stood by the palings there broken 
 And bowed to the will of my God. 
 
 I felt that the blow had bereft me 
 
 Of most of this world I have found ; 
 
 The evening departed and left me 
 To weep by the desolate mound. 
 
 But why should I linger here giving 
 Up most of my evenings to pine ? 
 
 I know that my loved one is living 
 In a world that is brighter than mine. 
 
 A memory sweet never leaves me 
 Of life with a heart all my own ; 
 
 'Tis only her absence that grieves me — 
 My life is so cheerless and lone, 
 
 I'll wait till this journey is over, 
 
 Though often bereavements must come 
 
 I know that my lost I'll recover 
 To love in the spiritual home. 
 
SONGS 0£ TttE CUMBERLANDS. i^t 
 
 ECHOING VALES. 
 
 Dear girl, in the vale where your lovable form 
 
 Was sheltered in earlier years, 
 Where we greeted the sunshine or breasted the storm 
 
 To mingle our blessings and fears ; 
 Where we rowed o'er the river that glided along 
 
 With a rollicking laugh ever new, 
 Or squandered the moments in transport and song, — 
 
 I count o'er my memories to you. 
 
 Here stands the gray crag that we mounted to view 
 
 The landscape before us that lay ; 
 Above it the sky bends as cloudless and blue 
 
 As it did in our happiest May. 
 The skiff that we paddled here rests on the shore. 
 
 But time has corroded its chain ; 
 The gunwales are broken, the burdens it bore 
 
 Perhaps it will bear ne'er again. 
 
 Here the cataract falls, and its thunders are heard 
 On the mountain and thorn-covered moor ; 
 
 Here often we strayed and we spoke not a word, 
 But by gesture, so deafening the roar. 
 
38 
 
 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS, 
 
 Here stands the gray crag that we mounted to view 
 The landscape before us that lay;" — Page 37. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 39 
 
 Here circle the eddies and bubble the boils 
 
 Where we waited and angled of yore ; 
 Here the old water- wheel with its burden still toils, 
 
 The mill rocks and groans as before. 
 
 Here rises the dwelling that sheltered your head, 
 
 But its rooms have been silent for years ; 
 The beauteous soul that adorned it has fled — 
 
 I view the old cottage through tears. 
 The fences are broken, the lilies are gone 
 
 Your eyes so delighted to view ; 
 Here Loneliness sits on the fountain's cold stone, 
 
 Day and night she is mourning for you. 
 
 The ''too whoo" of the owl echoes loud through this vale. 
 
 Like our pleasures the day softly dies. 
 Now comes on the breezes the night-bird's sad wail. 
 
 And the moon drops her light from the skies. 
 How pensiv^e to stand in this valley and see 
 
 Sable night spread her mantle abroad ! 
 My comrade removed, here is left but for me 
 
 Wandering love and a crag-covered road. 
 
40 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS, 
 
 MONTEZUMA ^ SEA. 
 
 Looking o'er this rippled sea 
 
 Which recedes beyond my sight, 
 
 Tired of booUs that load my knee, 
 Tired of sea-gulls in their flight, — 
 
 I'm reflecting on the time 
 
 This broad water holds me here. 
 
 Burning neath a sultry clime, 
 
 Homesick though my tent is near. 
 
 Backward moves the moaning tide, 
 All the sea-birds herald night; 
 
 Go, you ocean, deep and wide ! 
 
 I must leave you while there's light. 
 
 But to-morrow where I move 
 Far from this resplendent view, 
 
 Oh ! my heart will ache with love 
 And my sighs be ail for you. 
 
SONGS OF TllE CUMBERLANDS. 41 
 
 FARE YOU WELL. 
 
 Fare you well! may peace attend you 
 
 Through the vale I leave behind, 
 May each wounded heart befriend you 
 
 Though your every thought's unkind. 
 Though we part, my prayers will greet you 
 
 Through the years you bid me go ; 
 Should the fiercest fortune meet you 
 
 Still those blessings you will know. 
 
 Oh ! the anxious hopes that cheered me. 
 
 Thrills so long my sweetest pang ; 
 Oh ! the pledges that endeared me 
 
 Fall to ashes where they sprang. 
 How my pining heart has loved you, 
 
 Weltering at 3'our feet a slave ! 
 Your reproachful look has proved 
 
 False to every vow you gave. 
 
 When a careless child I sought you 
 Straying through your woodland wild. 
 
 Little treasured gifts I brought you. 
 Which you took and always smiled. 
 
42 SONGS OF THE CUMRERLANDS. 
 
 Where no curious eye could greet us 
 Pledged we then we'd never part, 
 
 What e'er be the fates that meet us 
 Each would hold the other's heart. 
 
 Like the morning skies that greet me 
 
 But ere noon with clouds is black, 
 Your dear love that used to meet me 
 
 Quits its early beaten track. 
 Fare you well ! the hearts that love you 
 
 Fall beneath the cruel blow ; 
 Though my kindness may not move you, 
 
 Soon my sorrow you shall know. 
 
SONOS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 43 
 
 STROLL IN THE SOUTHLAND. 
 
 From the wild Appalachians long lost in the haze, 
 I stroll in the Southland through long sunny days. 
 
 I passed the dense heathers of Cumberland heights ; 
 The deer bounded by me, and their eyes were great lights. 
 
 I left the Warito* whose smiles yet I trace, 
 
 But stooped in ray wonder and kissed its bright face. 
 
 I've gone from the fountains that gush from your hills 
 To bathe in the seas that my heart ever fills. 
 
 Removed from mv loved ones I stroll o'er this strand, 
 Where summer forever is queen of the land ; 
 
 Where palm and the cypress encircle the lakes, 
 
 And this glittering pontchartrain of laughter partakes; 
 
 Where gay birds unwearied flit over the scene, 
 
 And the gray, friendless s])ider is weaving his screen. 
 
 "'■•Indian name of Cumberland River. 
 
44 SONGS '^F THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 Each prospect that greets me as daily I rove, 
 Brings back to my memory the home that I love. 
 
 These waters unbounded go sporting along, 
 And wake in my bosom a volume of song. 
 
 My days are a joy in the rapturous wood. 
 
 And my nights even more as I float on the flood. 
 
 Could a shadow of grief ever dawn in this place. 
 To darken the sunlight of beauty I trace? 
 
 Oh ! no, but when fancy transforms each dear spot, 
 And pictures my home where I know it is not. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 45 
 
 SPIRIT IN HE A VEN. 
 
 O Spirit whose home is celestial, 
 
 Removed from this censure and strife 
 
 To pleasures unknown to the bestial, 
 Think of those in the outskirts of life. 
 
 We know you still live and about you 
 Are cares for your happier birth, 
 
 But still we are grieved for without you 
 What pleasure affords this old earth ? 
 
 Spring bursts from its confines and glitters 
 As bright as the morning we met ; 
 
 The prospect, though gay, but imbitters, 
 And life is o'ercast with regret. 
 
 I seek the green woodland at vesper, 
 Where birds at their nest weaving ply; 
 
 I think of your soft, loving whisper, 
 And quit the dear scene with a sigh. 
 
46 SONGS OF THE CUMEERLANDS. 
 
 I list to the brooklet's low mumbling, 
 The voices I hear seem to say, 
 
 That fate is so cruel and humbling, 
 This world had not tired of your stay. 
 
 By streamlets more lovely you wander, 
 And landscapes sublimer you see ; 
 
 With brighter companions you squander 
 The evenings you once gave to me. 
 
 I know that the beauties that greet you 
 Lead you far in that love-lighted place ; 
 
 But wait, only wait till we meet you. 
 
 And those grandeurs together we'll trace. 
 
 Yes, wait at the entrance to heaven. 
 Our canvas is soon to be furled ; 
 
 When by one tempest more we are driven 
 We'll meet in the spiritual world. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 4? 
 
 SONNET TO SPRING. 
 
 Still frolics Spring, the fields with spikes are strown, 
 The mumbling- brooklets through the meadows flow, 
 The mock-birds trill, the busy planters go ; 
 
 Good bye to Winter since his frosts are gone : 
 
 I stroll among the rugged cliffs alone 
 At eve to see the sunset's dying glow. 
 Or troll in rapids where the blushing bow 
 
 Of Iris bends above me as my own. 
 
 O lovely scene, beloved dehghtful Spring, 
 
 Reward of four months' suffering in the frost! 
 
 We laugh forever 'neath your verdant wing 
 But sigh forever when your smiles are lost; 
 
 Sear Autumn may have pleasures yet to bring. 
 But flowers and sunshine children love the most. 
 
48 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 CUPID'S CAPTIVE. 
 
 I say not that I love you, still 
 
 From every sigh's repulsion 
 You see my senses and my will 
 
 Are struggling in convulsion. 
 My anxious glances when I rise 
 
 To pay each benediction, 
 Discover surely to your eyes, 
 
 This homage is no fiction. 
 
 It is enough, I'll plead no more 
 
 In love's replete advances ; 
 My spirit begs for only your 
 
 Benignant smiles and glances. 
 Have mercy! 'tis no fiendish call, 
 
 I ask it through emotion ; 
 From that exalted summit fall. 
 
 To bathe in love's pure ocean. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMEERLANDS. 
 
 OOTHTANAKEE. 
 
 (Fulls of Taylor's Creek, Tenn.) 
 
 Hovering here excluding day 
 Ever hangs this cloud of spray, 
 Through the trees the tempest howls, 
 Far below the water scowls ; 
 Here a tempest cleaves its way 
 Through this fissure ni^ht and day, 
 Leaping from the cliffs around 
 Fall the streams with deafening sound, 
 Dancing, sparkling, wild they come 
 Bursting into mist and foam : 
 Sometimes, when the ^aporssway, 
 Struggles through a beam of day, 
 Then in mists again immured 
 Thus this grandeur is obscured. 
 Through the cloud that wraps the scene 
 Iris bends her lovely mien. 
 While above the mantling spray 
 Glow the silver shafts of day. 
 
 Where these dark abutments stand 
 Smile and frown go hand in hand, 
 Beauties greet you, yet beware, 
 Dark, deep chasms await you there. 
 Oothtanakee in despair 
 Sought these cliffs to end his care. 
 On the hungry rocks below 
 Broke his cumbrous load of woe. 
 
 49 
 
50 
 
 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 " Beauties greet you, yet beware, 
 Dark, deep chasms await you there," — Page 49. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBER LANES. 51 
 
 BLISSFUL DREAMS. 
 
 Love, may I lay my bead to rest 
 Once more upon your snowy breast, 
 There near the heart I love the most 
 Let all things else in dreams be lost ? 
 
 While pillowed thus my spirit eyes 
 Ope softly on elysian skies ; 
 Yes, sleeping there as evening dies, 
 To heaven in dreams my spirit flies. 
 
 For waking oft you fondly wait. 
 I wake, am still at heaven's gate ; 
 How fond the love, how sweet the rest. 
 To kiss and slumber on your breast ! 
 
 Then greet me at your generous home. 
 To know your love again I come. 
 There through your sweet lips to absorb 
 The soul that guides me like an orb. 
 
52 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 I'll have no need to turn away 
 In spirit from this realm of clay, 
 To seek in other worlds the bliss 
 That thrills me in your soothing kiss. 
 
 Still in your youthful mien I trace 
 The beauty of an angel's face, 
 So heaven, instead of far away. 
 Here daily beams upon my way. 
 
 When sleeping I shall dream of you, 
 The most of heaven I ever knew, 
 And waking, I'll again caress 
 The form I so much love to bless. 
 
 The time approaches, love, when we 
 Again those happy hours shall see. 
 Gaze fondly in each love-lit eye 
 To kiss and kiss and kiss good bye ! 
 
 Oh ! no we never more can part 
 Lest each will take the other's heart, 
 Thus treasured, though apart we rove. 
 To still as fondly, truly love. 
 
 Erelong the mountain's frozen crest 
 My feet must press as oft they've prest, 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 53 
 
 There with old Winter's chilling powers 
 To wrestle as in former hours. 
 
 Too soon between us Ocean's roar 
 Will clash as it has not before, 
 And I must give your kindly home 
 For clouded skies and salt sea-foam. 
 
 Although I go with footsteps fleet 
 My heart is lowly at your feet, 
 Though cruel fates my life control 
 My love's as lasting as my soul. 
 
 When on the sea my head shall rest 
 
 I'll think it is your heaving breast, 
 
 And when sweet sleep and dreams are given 
 
 I'll know not but I'm with my heaven. 
 
54 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 HOPES IN ASHES. 
 
 Yes, I know the hopes I cherish 
 
 Here must end, 
 Joys I thought would never perish 
 
 Here must end ; 
 Oh ! the grave must hold my pleasures ! 
 Place the sod above my treasures 
 
 Where they fall. 
 
 Oh ! I'm lonely weeping, sighing 
 
 O'er my fate. 
 Oh ! my heart is wilting, dying 
 
 O'er my fate ; 
 Your fair hands have dug the fissure. 
 Mine must lie beneath the pressure 
 
 Evermore ! 
 
 Now your angel form has left me 
 
 Dying here, 
 Your sweet smile of life bereft me 
 
 Dying here ; 
 Never more on earth to meet you. 
 Not to think in heaven I'll greet you. 
 
 Darling love ! 
 
SONGS OF THE CUNBERLANDS. 
 
 55 
 
 Fare you well ! but yet I welter 
 
 At your door, 
 Gone forever is the shelter 
 
 Of your love ; 
 Yet, though weltering, don't deride me, 
 Broad, dark distance must divide me 
 
 And your love. 
 
 Let your elm-tree lift its moaning 
 
 Where I fall, 
 Let your mock-bird sing till dawning 
 
 At my grave ; 
 I'll be truly blest in dying 
 If you'll woo me, kiss me lying 
 
 At your door. 
 
56 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 BE MINE IN HE A VEN. 
 
 It seems that I had fixed my heart 
 On one some less repulsive, 
 
 It seems, as fruitless years depart, 
 I'd break this spell convulsive. 
 
 Not so, my love springs up anew 
 And blooms as spring-time finds me, 
 
 My soul is ever fixed on you, 
 Nor Time nor Fate unbinds me. 
 
 Yes, as the seasons decades bring. 
 Take hopes I cherished early, 
 
 My love blooms in unfading spring 
 And furls your breast more nearly. 
 
 Oh ! what a pleasure that will be, 
 
 To know I'll love forever, 
 In dreams your beauteous face to see, 
 
 And break those visions never ! 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 57 
 
 To know, though never more be given 
 
 On earth, a time to bless you, 
 I'll love you when we meet in heaven 
 
 And still as fondly bless you. 
 
 But what a stunning, murderous blow 
 
 If in those realms elysian 
 Your lovely smiles I did not know 
 
 In truth or kindred vision ! 
 
 Let years be numberless or few. 
 
 Forgive the oft told story. 
 How quick they'd go if I but knew 
 
 You'd wed me, love, in glory ! 
 
 Then though my tree of hope is sear. 
 
 Its toppling crest is riven, 
 Speak, love, and make me happy here, 
 
 Say you'll be mine in heaven ! 
 
58 SONGS OF THE CUMEERLANDS. 
 
 WILD PIPER. 
 
 I hear an orchestra's sweet pleading 
 This eve as the shadows grow long, 
 
 I hear the wild piper's loud carol 
 Converting the vale into song. 
 
 The soft breeze is rife with the flute notes 
 That ring from the mountain away ; 
 
 They come as bright dreams of the parted, 
 The joys of a happier day. 
 
 WORLD'S EXPOSITION. 
 
 (NeAV Orleans, Feb. 1885.) 
 
 Summary of earth, lost in your depths I rove ! 
 
 Gleanings from every age, from every clime ! 
 I find each art, invention, age I love 
 
 Mixed in one dazzling show, O scene sublime ! 
 
 Why journey further ? England, Egypt, Rome, 
 Japan, France, Greece and China lavish here 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 5§ 
 
 Their products, and old Mexico's at home, 
 But Turks' and Arabs' pipes the ribbons wear. 
 
 Spreads here with careful hands our own fair land 
 Her thousand cereals; well she may not blush : 
 
 Here stretches Georgia, yonder rises grand 
 Vermont in marble, Kansas makes a rush. 
 
 My Tennessee well burdened answers " Here ! " 
 In all but apples, I could eat her store; 
 
 For corn and peas a label she should wear. 
 Such beets and 'tatoes never hit this shore ! 
 
 Here's Florida in thousand different w^oods, 
 And fruits as numerous as her crocodiles ; 
 
 There sits old California with competing goods. 
 Wreathing her sunburnt face with broadcast smiles. 
 
 They turn us in at lo A. M., all day 
 
 We jostle thousands, shove our way from Spain 
 
 Across to China, through the States, and stay 
 A while at Yeddo waiting for the train. 
 
 In pottery I believe old Venice wins. 
 
 Give Mexico a button for her beans, 
 Texas should have a cracker for her skins, 
 
 For Carnivals the prize is New Orteans'! 
 
60 sOnGs of the CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 THORN LESS FLOWERS. 
 
 Let the rose without the thorn 
 Line your path as never mine, 
 
 Hither sweetest joys be borne 
 
 While on guard may angels shine. 
 
 Let the storms that press my brow 
 Lull their rage ere reaching you, 
 
 Let the waves that beat my prow 
 Nearing yours their peace renew. 
 
 Be each dearth of hope for me. 
 Famine for my lips alone, 
 
 I am always blest to see 
 
 Yours a pleasure not my own. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 6l 
 
 MEMORIES OF GEORGIA. 
 
 From the dark Cobuttah Mountains 
 Where Cotakah and Ellijah 
 Clasp their tiny hearts in wedlock, 
 Down the reedy Coosawattee 
 Till it weds the Connesaiiga, 
 Down the rocky Oostanaula, 
 Through the trodden field Resaca, 
 Till the Etowah and Coosa 
 Mingled with the Tallapoosa, 
 And the glorious Alabama 
 Gave me to the Montezuma, — 
 Oh ! my heart so mucb exulted 
 I was weary once with pleasure. 
 
 In the vale of Oothcaloga 
 Waved the harvest, sang the plowman, 
 And the peaks of Allatoona 
 Echoed back the dying numbers, 
 And the yellow Chattahoochee 
 Rolled its majesty before me, 
 Till it met the Thronateeska, 
 Made the Appalachicola, 
 
62 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANIDS. 
 
 All alone by the Ocmulgee 
 In the shadows of the pine-trees 
 Oft I fished away the evenings, 
 Rowed upon its smooth, deep waters 
 To the sandy, dark Oconee, 
 Rested on the Altamaha, 
 Drifted to the Great Ohoopee. 
 
 Once I loved the Withlocoochee, 
 Strolled among its cool, dense hammocks, 
 But the laughing AUapaha 
 Won me with its brighter luiiines, 
 And the Httle Suwanoochee 
 Lured me to the old Suwanee. 
 
 Once I sought the swift Tallulah, 
 Till it wedded the Chattooga, 
 Followed on the clear Tugalo 
 To the beautiful Savannah, 
 Bathed my bark in the Kiokee, 
 Sheltered in the lap of Uchee, 
 Rested on the far Ogeechee. 
 
 Far beyond the Ocklokonee 
 And the gentle Okopilco, 
 Where no more the Kinchafoonee 
 Leads us to the Thronateeska, 
 And the moaning Ichawaynochaway, 
 Spread the breaks of Okefenokee. 
 Once I floundered in its jungles 
 As I rambled in the Southland, 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBEKLANDS. 
 
 63 
 
 
 m 
 
 i^^^ 
 
 But a gentle igiiis-fatuus 
 
 Led me back to the Satilla." — Page 64. 
 
64 f-ONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 But a gentle ignis-fatuus 
 Led me back to the Satilla. 
 
 Good-bye, Georgia! yet your Soquee 
 Fills my heart like Auchee Hachee, 
 And the sobbing Tobesofkee 
 Calls my thoughts to Towaliga. 
 O the shades of Appalachee ! 
 They are loved as the Tocoa, 
 And your Cannauchee reminds me 
 Of my Tennessee's Hiwassee, 
 Of the playful stream Sequachee. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 65 
 
 BRIGHT BE YOUR DAYS. 
 
 Peaceful and bright be your days, 
 
 Gilded with hope's silver beam, 
 Freed from each gathering haze 
 
 Be your journey one beautiful dream. 
 
 Sweet be the roses that line 
 
 Your pathway while blossom the trees, 
 Soft be the clasp of the vine 
 
 That holds your young heart in its wreathes. 
 
 Long be the spring you will know 
 The brightest the world ever knew. 
 
 Hushed be each breath that would flow 
 Opposed to a vision like you. 
 
 Your road is a pageant more bright 
 Than earth, so we follow your wake ; 
 
 But, oh ! give us peace in your might, 
 Be gentle with hearts that you break ! 
 
66 
 
 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 'Tis a meteor passing I know, 
 
 All the stars have grown dim in the blaze 
 You give to our world a bright glow 
 
 But m> heart feels the most while we gaze. 
 
 O light that has ravaged the world, 
 Comet drawing the orbs in your wake, 
 
 O spirit of beauty unfurled, 
 
 Be kind to the hearts that vou break 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 67 
 
 SAV, DO YOU, DARLING. 
 
 Say, do you darling, when you milk 
 Your gentle cows or rope the calf. 
 
 Or sweep away the spider's silk, 
 
 But think of me sometimes and laugh ? 
 
 Say, when you slap the beds about 
 Or fling their covers out to sun, 
 
 A moment, love, forget to pout 
 To think of me and days of fun. 
 
 When bending o'er the heated stove 
 You roll the roasting coffee free, 
 
 Or when the biscuit pan you shove. 
 Think so you've often done for me. 
 
 But when you splash the wash-tub, dear. 
 With dripping clothes and soapy hands. 
 
 With bonnet flapped and dress you wear, 
 I know your beauty most commands. 
 
 But when you pick the stately goose 
 That kicks and screams at every blow, 
 
68 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 Be merciful and turn him loose, 
 Just think I would not treat ^^w so. 
 
 How beautiful your evenings, love. 
 
 For covering apples from the dews, 
 To give each romping child a shove 
 
 And walk the porch without your shoes ! 
 
 Do for me, as your chickens, care ! 
 
 I saw a hawk once make his swoop, 
 But you with gentle hands were there 
 
 And put them in their litde coop. 
 
 But when you're picking beans, beware ! 
 
 The stinging- worm's a sneaking foe; 
 Some playful lizard, hiding there, 
 
 Might set you screaming " snake !" you know. 
 
 So, darling, still as useful be. 
 
 And make your home a cloudless noon ; 
 
 At table place a plate for me. 
 
 For I'll be there to help you soon. ^ 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. * 69 
 
 LOST IN FLORIDA. 
 
 Tuskeneha, tell me, guide, 
 
 Where we are, we perish here ! 
 
 Tempests gather far and wide, 
 Thunders grate upon my ear. 
 
 What a grand, terrific light 
 
 Flashes through this wilderness ! 
 
 Yet each blaze that breaks the night 
 Adds no hope in our distress 
 
 Through the fan-palms crocodiles 
 
 Seek the pathway where we grope ; 
 Greeted by their hungry smiles, 
 We may bid adieu to hope. 
 
 'Mong these breaking, crashing trees 
 Who would tremble not with dread ? 
 
 Near us break the angry seas, 
 
 Here the clouds their vengeance she,d. 
 
70 ■ SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 Gladly would we say good night 
 To this flashing, swaying scene ; 
 
 No, we wander here till light 
 Tears away the sable screen. 
 
 Indian's hut perhaps is near 
 Hajo, speak your signal call ; 
 
 Nothing but these hammocks hear, 
 Where no human footsteps fall. 
 
 Yet may not a shelter be 
 
 In this tangled forest found ? 
 
 Yonder, lo ! an orange-tree 
 
 Spreads its sheltering leaves around. 
 
 Guided by the lightning's blaze, 
 Marshes, miring sands, we press ; 
 
 Chilled by rains and salt-sea sprays, 
 Thus we tramp this wilderness. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 STORM AT SEA. 
 
 71 
 
 How many weary days must come 
 
 Before I see your face, 
 Before I greet you at your home 
 
 And know your loved embrace ! 
 
 My bark is waiting, love, to fly 
 
 Across the waters wide. 
 But Montezuma's Sea is high, 
 
 I cannot stem the tide. 
 
 How fast tlie mountain billows come, 
 
 Tossed wildly by the srale ! 
 While madly thus they heap their foam 
 
 No. seaman spreads his sail. 
 
 I would not now forsake this shore 
 Were tempests halt* as high ; 
 
 I never saw such seas before, 
 Such blazes through the sky. 
 
 But by the favoring smiles of Heaven, 
 
 Which ever mine may be, 
 Ere one brief season more be given 
 
 We'll meet beyond the sea. 
 
72 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 LAND OF FLOWERS. 
 
 If far Sahara be a land 
 
 Of dancing heat and burning sand, 
 
 Where all the beauty nature yields 
 
 Has loi)g since withered from the fields, 
 
 Sahara is not here, this place 
 
 Assumes a brighter, lovelier face. 
 
 Here are the crystal lakes that smile 
 
 And mirror back each flowery isle. 
 
 Here grow ihe palms and hammocks green, 
 
 Old Winter does not change the scene, 
 
 Bay, live-oak. cypress, pine we view. 
 
 Magnolias claim attenti'm, too. 
 
 Here softly fans the cool sea-breeze. 
 
 All day it moans among the trees. 
 
 The orange, citron, guava, date. 
 
 The pains to gather only wait. 
 
 Limes, lemons, cocoas, grape fruits, figs. 
 
 Here swing upon the living twigs. 
 
 And May, delightful May, has made 
 
 Her home forever in this shade. 
 
 A thousand birds of plumage gay 
 
 Are swimming on each liquid way. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 These citrus groves the whole day long 
 
 Are ringing with the voice of song ; 
 
 Here is the sea, the playful sea, 
 
 Which always had a charm for me, 
 
 Upon whose sands I often stand 
 
 And watch the billows kiss the land : 
 
 My sail I spread before the breeze 
 
 That wafts me on with speed and ease — 
 
 How truly blest is life to be 
 
 A citizen beside this sea ? 
 
 We want an artist here to trace 
 
 The beauties all these lakes embrace, 
 
 We want a poet here to sing 
 
 To glory this abode of Spring ; 
 
 But had the Fates been pleased to own 
 
 I had a right to music's throne, 
 
 These warblers soon would hush their throats 
 
 And list to stranger, sweeter notes, 
 
 Or could I wield the painter's brush 
 
 The canvas I would boldly touch. 
 
 And all the beauties that are here 
 
 In other climes would re-appear. 
 
 73 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 OCKLAWAHA. 
 
 (A tributary of the St. Johns' Fla.) 
 
 Quit the North, you sportive rover, 
 Fields perfumed with blooming clover, 
 Quit the city's rushing, jeering, 
 Mountain rocks that boast in peering, 
 Quit Niagra, Minnehaha, 
 Seek the brakes of Ocklawaha, 
 Seek the hammocks of a river 
 Where old VV inter's fingers never 
 
 Plucked the flowers. 
 Sol may rise and pour his blazes 
 Where Kissimmee's flood amazes, 
 Far beneath these dark recesses 
 His sear heat no more oppresses. 
 Cruel Care no more distresses. 
 Thoughts are fixed on scenes embowering, 
 Cypress, palms, magnolias towering. 
 Mid the tangles many a wonder 
 Half your former griefs will sunder, 
 Further, deeper, penetrating 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 Where bright birds are ever prating 
 
 Fly the hours. 
 Part the hammock, seek the river, 
 There the sunbeams gayly quiver 
 In the shadows deep and lasting, 
 There no tempests loud and blasting 
 Break the waters' gentle slumbers, 
 But the mock-bird's varied numbers 
 
 Float serene. 
 
 75 
 
76 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 DARK WARRIORS ARE WHERE? 
 
 I went to the vale of the echoing Fred, 
 
 The walls of dark granite affronted the cloud ; 
 
 They were blackened with smoke, but the warriors had 
 fled; 
 There thundered the cascade, and spray was its shroud. 
 
 I turned to the caverns, the inmates had fled, 
 The twilight recesses I ventured to probe, 
 
 But on the damp pavements where revels had sped 
 Old Lonelmess sat in his odious robe. 
 
 The warriors' grim ensigns of victory hung there, 
 I viewed each strange trace of a people and sighed; 
 
 On leaving I spoke, " The dark warriors are where ?" 
 " Dark warriors are where ?" all the caverns replied. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 77 
 
 CRYSTAL CAVERNS. 
 
 I ween old Jupiter to-night 
 
 Will thunder from his heavenly height, 
 
 As eight o'clock repeats its jolt 
 
 He'll turn loose every thunder-bolt, 
 
 Eolus rolls his winds along, 
 
 Big clouds of dust are in the throng ; 
 
 Why does not Neptune interfere 
 
 To check this wrath of Jupiter ? 
 
 No, let it storm till mountains tilt, 
 
 Of black-gum logs my shanty's built. 
 
 Asleep or 'wake I don't know which, 
 
 At Panama I dig a ditch. 
 
 Pshaw, Clio, such a dev'lish dream ! 
 
 Things are not often what they seem ; 
 
 Here through this port-hole let us view 
 
 The lightning's flashing, dazzling hue ; 
 
 The clouds are empty, not a drop 
 
 Of rain has struck my shanty's top ! 
 
 Look, yonder where the thunders grate 
 
 A mountain lays its ponderous weight, 
 
 There is a palace under ground, 
 
 How tired the feet that tramp its round 
 
78 SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 Crawling through holes you reach each room, 
 
 Superbly dread you'll think the gloom. 
 
 Lately those silent depths I viewed, 
 
 The way with broken rocks was strewed ; 
 
 There many a column, scars revealing. 
 
 Rose from the floor and kissed the ceiling, 
 
 As many prostrate blocked the floor. 
 
 Destructive hands had gone before, 
 
 A thousand spears from overhead 
 
 Stuck through my heart a sense of dread ; 
 
 What grander scenes beneath the sun 
 
 Than caverns like this awful one ? 
 
 But let us quit this noted sight 
 
 To climb the mountain's dizzier height ; 
 
 Peaches are ripe, they dangle free, 
 
 A zephyr rustles every tree. 
 
 Back to this room, my tramping o'er, 
 
 Through musty volume's late I p'»re. 
 
 Sometimes the midnight strikes its gong 
 
 And finds me bent o'er prose or song. 
 
SONGS OF THE CUMBERLANDS. 
 
 SUA^SET. 
 
 The sun goes down into the dappled sea. 
 
 A fading, ruby glimmer marks his grave, 
 The dew-drops kiss the opening flowers, the bee 
 
 Well freighted seeks its isle across the wave. 
 
 The breezes cease to fan the fisher's brow, 
 
 The billows hush their thunders on the shore, 
 
 The weary bird grows silent in his bough, 
 And nature whispers, '^ Sunset, day is o'er !" 
 
 ^r^.. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS | 
 
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