^ 
 
 ^.: 
 

 A POEM. 
 2Si) Sames J=. JJorsijtl). 
 
 NOP.WICH : 
 
 JOHN W. STEDMAN. 
 
 18 50 
 
,fc^' 
 
 
 
 Press o^ 
 john w. stedman, 
 
 12 9 M A I N - S T . , 
 NORWICH. 
 
Dear Sir : — In considering to whom I slioiild 
 have the honor of inscribing the present produc- 
 tion, I know of no one to whom that ceremony 
 conld be more appropriately, and to me more 
 satisfactorily, performed, than to yourself. It 
 purports to be a poem relating to Norwich — its 
 early and its present aspects : a native of Nor- 
 wich, nvirtured amid her romantic hills and 
 beautiful scenery, and, though for several years 
 past a resident in a far Western State, still bound 
 by the ties of sympathetic attachment to the 
 place of your birth, which is also yet the home 
 of your dearest kindred, you, I feel confident, 
 will regard with interest whatever, even though 
 it be in a humble manner, sets out to treat of 
 her in terms of just praise and celebration. 
 The propriety of this dedication will be still 
 more apparent, when the circumstances which 
 induced my poem are considered. It was a 
 Lyceum performance. You, Sir, Ihave reason 
 to know, will never look with indifference upon 
 the efforts of young men associated together for 
 the purpose of mental improvement, in the 
 Lyceum and Debating School. You yourself 
 were in former years an active participant in 
 
IV DEDICA.riON. 
 
 sitch scenes — the life and soul of the Social 
 Club ; and am I wi-ong in supposing that the 
 discipline there acquired, and the triumphs 
 there so often achieved by you, in the encoun- 
 ter of logic and wit, have had their legitimate 
 influence in preparing you for those more im- 
 portant and exciting forensic efl'orts in which 
 you have since been called to engage, with such 
 distinction, at the Bar and in the Halls of Con- 
 gress '? 
 
 I have alluded to the fact that you are now 
 the citizen of another town and State. Though 
 this be so, we can never forget that you were 
 of us, nor cease to feel a generous pride at that 
 reputation — destined yet to increase — which, as 
 a Counsellor, a Statesman, and a gallant Officer 
 in the late Mexican War, surrounds your 
 name. 
 
 Trusting that you will place a value upon 
 this inscription, determined not by the merits 
 of the performance itself, but by that higher 
 and safer standard, the attachment and respect- 
 ful consideration which prompted to the act, 
 I subscribe myself, 
 Your sincere friend and admirer, 
 JAMES F. FORSYTH. 
 
 Norwich, December 1-2, 1850. 
 
^htUit^ 
 
 The following poem was delivered, at two 
 readings, before the Young Men's Lyceum of 
 this City, in accordance with a rule of the as- 
 sociation requiring Essays from its members, as 
 a part of its stated exercises. The aiithor never 
 anticipated its publication in the present, nor 
 indeed in any form ; and in its preparation little 
 thought was expended, beyond what was ne- 
 cessary for the gratification of a passing fancy 
 and the fulfilment of an imposed duty. To 
 poetical talent he makes no pretensions ; a dis- 
 claimer, the wisdom of which v/ill probably be 
 readily assented to by the reader. Yet, the sug- 
 gestion having been made with much earnest- 
 ness by some of his friends, that it would be 
 well to give the production in question publici- 
 ty ; and, superadded to this, a formal request 
 for its publication having been made by the 
 Lyceum; the present volume is respectfully, 
 though not altogether without reluctance, sub- 
 mitted to the public. 
 
i vi 
 
 P B n F A C E 
 
 The engravings, executed by the best artists 
 in the City of New York, have been introduced 
 at considerable expense, and the whole work 
 has been prepared in a style that evinces care- 
 ful regard to mechanical execution. These 
 considerations, together with the fact of the 
 local character of the poem itself, and the ne- 
 cessarily circumscribed circulation of which 
 under the most favorable circumstances it is 
 capable, will readily suggest an explanation of 
 the price at which it has been deemed necessary 
 to place it on sale. 
 
NOHWICH — A POEM. 
 
 f\F our sweet Town and City now I sing, 
 The associations which around it chng ; 
 Now in brief numbers, passing quickly through 
 Its Rise and Progi-ess, I shall bring to view 
 Its Present state, the changes wrought from old, 
 As onward Time's slow chariot-wheels have 
 
 rolled ; 
 On points of interest with due fervor dwell. 
 Passing wher'er the Fancy's reins impel. 
 Like the industrious bee in Summer hour, 
 I'hat hastes on brilliant wing from flower to 
 
 flower. 
 Extracts from each the hidden treasure swi;et, 
 Then hies it to its wild far-oflf retreat. 
 
10 NORWICH A POEM. 
 
 Romantic Norwich ! let my tlioughts ex- 
 pand — 
 Let language copious, beautiful and gi-and, 
 Be mine, to grasp and fitly utter forth 
 Tliy natural beauties and thy civic worth. 
 A stranger — one no more — from distant cKme, 
 AVhose air is scented with the fragrant lime, 
 Wliere springs forth verdure in spontaneous 
 
 shoots, 
 And laden are the trees with ti'opic fruits, 
 I came to thee — more beauteous to my eye, 
 As in thy Winter's garb tliou yet didst lie, 
 Than where Earth 's covered with perennial 
 
 green, 
 And Nature's most voluptuous forms are seen. 
 Thy snow-capped hills, without the power to 
 
 chill, 
 Through my young veins sent but a warming 
 
 thrill ; 
 In merry troupe, along thine ice-bound banks, 
 I saw the skaters play their nimble pranks. 
 
NORWICn — A POEM. 11 
 
 While the Sun shed in diamond points his beams 
 Upon the surface of thy frozen streams. 
 And soon I learned to mingle in the strife, 
 The sports and pleasures of a Winter's life, 
 To dash aside witli glee the fallen snow. 
 And from the cold to feel a hveher glow.. 
 The frost — how ciiriously it did appear ; 
 And then, at times, each tree a chandelier, 
 Whose outspread arms a load of crystals bore, 
 Sparklingly bright ! — sight never seen before, 
 Or fancied, save in Eastern fairy tale. 
 Where magic groves the traveler's eyes regale. 
 
 Stich were thy Winter's charms ; and when 
 the Spring 
 Its genial influences once again did bring— 
 The Sun tiprising with the lengthening days. 
 Sent do^vn on Earth his vi\'ifying rays — 
 How brightly then thy varied beauties shone ! 
 Thy mantling iiills with verdure overgrown — 
 
12 KORWICE — A POEM. 
 
 Tliy groves, whose arches now wild m\isic fills, 
 Thy pleasant vales, made glad with sparkling 
 
 rills ; 
 Thy meadowy fields, spread out in vistas long, 
 Where cattle low and quails pipe out their song. 
 Thy sti-eams, relieved from cold paralysis. 
 Now swollen torrents, turbid, roar and hiss 
 Their banks between ; 'till Nature's throes soon 
 
 o'er, 
 Their placid waters wound along the shore. 
 And, then, thy lonely walks, retiring far. 
 Where man God's handiwork has failed to mar ; 
 The laurel foot-path, the secluded glen, 
 The deep-shaded bower, and the hennifs den. 
 With " wild-wood flowers," that, yielding to the 
 
 tread. 
 Forth on the air their dainty fragr mce shed. 
 — Ah ! those were choicest hours of boyhood's 
 
 days, 
 When, clambering up some hill-side's devious 
 
 ways, 
 
NOBWICH A POSil. 13 
 
 I've gazed at eve upon thine outspread charms, 
 Sweet Norwich ! circled in by silvery arms ;(1) 
 Have marked thy gently imdulating plains, 
 Traced here and there with clear meandering 
 
 veins — 
 Tliy forest hills, where Romance loves to dwell. 
 Thy valleys, echoing to the sounding bell — 
 Thy peaceful homes and scenes of rural life, 
 Pleasingly mingled with commercial strife ; 
 Heard the wild, plaintive note of whippoorwill 
 Pierce the soft air, erewhile so hushed and still, 
 Save as the low and distant anthem roar 
 Broke on the car, where Yantic's waters pour. 
 
 Majestic sound ! how long the ages past. 
 Since first thine echoes mingled with the blast ! 
 Continuous music ! Nature's solemn bass ! 
 Filhng with munnurs all surrounding space. 
 Thy deep tones reach me now, and lead my 
 
 thought 
 Back to those days when first the settler sought 
 
li S-ORWICH A POEM. 
 
 A home within these ancient wooded vales, 
 'Till then mark d only by wildsava.je tra's. 
 Thoiigh long the wasted years which intervene, 
 Imagination pictures out the scene : 
 The beetling crags, the thick-growTi fores c trees, 
 Sunlight scarce piercing their interstices ; 
 The river with its sedgy banks, or lined 
 With densest foliage, to its waves inclined — 
 Upon whose shore, in contemplative mood, 
 The Indian hunter oft at eve has stood, 
 Or on its bosom in canoe was seen, 
 Ruffling with agile strokes its silver sheen. 
 Near yonder rock, the Indian maiden oft 
 Laved her round hmbs, so dusky yet so soft, 
 Assured that no observing eye was near, 
 Save the fixed gaze of the admiring deer. 
 Then, too, were wafted on the evening air. 
 The bowlings of the panther and the bear ; 
 The owlefs sombre notes, thebittena's screams ; 
 And worse than these, inducing feai-ful dreams, 
 
NORWICH- 
 
 The savage Indian's wild, iinearthly yell, 
 That pierced and echoed through each lonely 
 dell. 
 
 Bnt when the Sun arose, the midnight fright 
 Was scattered by the cheerful morning light. 
 The heavy mists uproUing in the morn, 
 Dissolved, or by the zephyrs onward borne,. 
 The Landscape's varied features now disclose, 
 Lying in deep and beautiful repose. 
 How hushed the scene ! rendered more lonely 
 
 still. 
 As rose the thrvmi of the woodpecker's bill. 
 On yon fallen ti-ee, the wild-fowl in his pride, 
 Silently sat and watched the flowing tide, 
 Or sleeked his plumage with a kingl air — 
 The solitude to him no caxise of fear. 
 Here, ushering forth at break of early dawn, 
 To slake her thirst, appeared the timorous fawn, 
 Watching her image 'neath the glassy sheet 
 That lay extended at her graceful feet. 
 
16 NOBW^ICH A POEM. 
 
 There the tall banks, ensconced in shadow, 
 
 throw 
 Their mirrored outlines in the stream below, 
 Where finny tribes, unseen by himian eye, 
 Sportively gambol in reflected sky : 
 While the whole Landscape is displayed to view, 
 Dripping with moisture, glistening with the dew, 
 'Till, mounting o'er the hills with stately grace. 
 The effulgent Svm beams forth upon the place. 
 
 Years rolled away ; in which arose to view, 
 The settlers' dwellings, isolate and few.(2) 
 Amid the wilderness bright spots appear. 
 Where rang the woodman's accents sharp and 
 
 clear. 
 And from sequestered points, when morning 
 
 broke, 
 Ascended up faint lines of curling smoke. 
 Plain were the habits and the modes which then 
 Prevailed among those honest-hearted men ; 
 Taught from their youth adversity to face, 
 A hardy, frugal and adventurous race, 
 
NORWICH A POEM. 17 
 
 Here in the wild-wood fixed they their abode, 
 Beneath the aegis of their Father, God. 
 
 And need there was of His outspreading arms, 
 Amid the hai-dships and the dread alarms 
 Which marked the history of that early date. 
 Such guardedness (historians so relate) 
 Was needed 'gainst the ruthless Indian foe, (3) 
 That armed, to church, the settlers oft did go ; 
 And as the Pastor otFered up his prayer, 
 Eyes glanced around with anxious, watchful 
 
 care. 
 Meantime, the painted tribes in deadly feud, (4) 
 Their murderous hands with "brother's blood" 
 
 embrued ; 
 Were heard the fearful warwhoopfrom afar, 
 And all the bowlings of the savage war. 
 What wonder, then, that Beauty's cheek grew 
 
 pale. 
 As passed from mouth to mouth the di-eadful 
 
 tale — 
 
 3 
 
18 NORWICH A. POEM. 
 
 j That Childliood, lying on its downy bed, 
 
 j Drew snugly up the covering o'er its head — 
 
 t While dauntless Manhood scanned the peril 
 
 ! near, 
 
 j Prepared to gaiard each household ti'easure dear. 
 
 O'er yonder hills, that, southward to the eve, 
 I Rear their broad summits 'gainst the azure sky, 
 I 'Mong valleys watered by the winding Cove,(5) 
 j A fearless band of warriors then did rove. 
 j These plains and hills, outstretching far around, 
 j Formed portions of their lordly hunting ground. 
 Dire were the conflicts which their strength 
 
 engaged, 
 With neighboring rival tribes so fiercely waged ; 
 Subtle the arts which oft to victory led, 
 And keen the aim with which their arrows sped ; 
 And when returned from the murderous chase, 
 Innumerous scalps their dingy wigwams grace. 
 Far o'er the plains which now rich fruitage yield, 
 Extended lay their bloody battle-field ; 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 19 
 
 From East, where flows Shetucket's hastening 
 
 tide, 
 Westward to Yantic's verdant river-side. 
 The striiggUng bands their homd warfare led — 
 The victors dancing o'er the fallen dead, 
 Or hastening onward in the hot pursuit, 
 O'er hill and plain with phrenzied ardor shoot, 
 Driving their vanquished foes, with hideous yell, 
 (Such is the legend which men often tell,) 
 Adown the steep and terrible abyss, (6) 
 Where Yantic's waters pour and foam and hiss. 
 
 Not always such the scene; periods there 
 were 
 Of holy cabn, when nought was seen astir 
 Of warhke inien ; but mingluig in the chase, 
 Or idly basking in some sunny place. 
 The Indian waixior passed his hours of ease, 
 Or sought with gentle arts his Love to please — 
 That Love as coy, as difficult to woo, 
 As e'er was maiden of a fairer hue : 
 
20 NORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Now round the council-fire, in grave suspense, 
 Listed to strains of fervid eloquence ; 
 Anon engaged in some fantastic dance, 
 Viewed by the rest with fixed, approving glance; 
 In unrestraint, reheved from cautious doubts, 
 Made the wild forests ring with sportive shouts ; 
 And yielding to the claims of War's release. 
 Buried the tomahawk, smoked the "pipe of 
 Peace." 
 
 The Indian Love — dark beauty of the land ! 
 Callous the "Brave" who could thy charms 
 
 withstand. 
 Of rounded foi-m and supple limb, and mien 
 That well befitted a wild forest queen — 
 Eyes of strange blackness, and a snake-hke 
 
 charm 
 That seized its victim but refrained from harm — 
 Warm, ripened lips — and just disclosed to sight, 
 Teeth that might rival pearls, so pure and white. 
 While her dark hair in glossy tresses fell 
 Adown her back — such was the Indian belle ! 
 
HORWICH — A POEM. 21 
 
 And siich, one evening as the setting Sun 
 Threw his last mellow, peaceful rayavipon 
 The Landscape, and the golden clouds o'erhead 
 In gorgeous banks were fancifully spread — 
 Such was the being — ^lovely, fearless child 
 Of Nature — that, deserting sports too wild 
 To always please, wandered in pensive mood, 
 Along the edge of yonder range of wood ; — 
 A favorite haunt, when tender thoughts inspired, 
 Or jealous rage her untamed bosom fired. 
 Here ran the stream, her mirror ; and the vow 
 Of love had here been uttered oft. But now 
 She pauses ; and her cautious, eager glance 
 Bespeaks her doubt — retreat or bold advance. 
 Mark now the meeting! 'Twas a pale-faced 
 
 maid, 
 Who, as it chanced, her onward progress stayed. 
 Of loveliest mould was she, and to the sight 
 Of Indian maiden seemed a Spirit bright. 
 Like bird before the charmer, trembling, 
 
 swaying, 
 Now bending low and now in posture praying, 
 
yy NORWICH A POEM. 
 
 The forest girl her adoration showed, 
 And at the vision's feet quite prostrate bowed. 
 A smile, half fear, half love, in beauty played 
 Upou the features of the pale-faced maid. — 
 Oh, 'twas indeed a curious, touching sceue, 
 That meeting of the maid and forest qvxeen : 
 Type of the conquest won by race o'er race, 
 Rude homage to superior mind and grace. — 
 Some time she gazed, nor would the silence 
 
 break : 
 At length with kindly voice the maiden spake — 
 " Sister, arise !" — Scarce uttered was the sound, 
 When with a wild leap springing from the 
 
 groTind, 
 The Indian girl within a thicket daited. 
 Thus met the two — thus suddenly were parted : 
 Each to relate with wonder what befell — 
 The pale-faced maiden and the Indian belle ! 
 
 Thus sped the time in those primeval days — 
 Fit theme to occupy the poet's lays : 
 
ITOBVriCH A POEM. 26 
 
 But as the settlers sought a wider range, 
 Mj pen essays to note the gi-adnal change. 
 
 Where far around the tangled covert spread, 
 And forest beasts their savage orgies led — 
 AVhere lay unmeasured fields and trackless 
 
 plain. 
 And Nature's vs^ildness filled the wide domain — 
 Soon interposed the hand of patient toil, 
 And laid its imprint on the virgin soil. 
 Order and Method vied with simple Taste, 
 To clear and beautify the shapeless waste. 
 Upon the hill-side sprang the waving grain, (7) 
 The flowery buckwheat whitened o'er the main, 
 And ranks of spiky maize their honors tossed, 
 Rising aroiind like an embattled host. 
 Enough for all, and still enough to spare, (8) 
 Each man, of land, possessed his proper share ; 
 With frugal art improved his small estate. 
 Cheered by the presence of his wedded mate. 
 Thus, by degi-ees, the settlement arose. 
 And busy thrift was blent with calm repose. 
 
24 KOBWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Arcadian Age! how sweetly must have flown 
 Thy peaceful hours along ; how thickly strewn 
 With scenes of innocence and quiet joy, 
 Scarce intermingled with Earth's base alloy. 
 The daily task complete, returned at night, 
 What cheer and comfort blessed the good man's 
 
 sight. 
 Sweet prattling voices, and the housewife's 
 
 smile. 
 His burdens lighten and his cares beguile. 
 Within the spacious fire-place tipward loom 
 The cheerful flames — their lustre round the 
 
 room ; 
 While on the smoking board, prepared with 
 
 care. 
 Was bountifully spread the evening fare. 
 High round the walls, or pendent from the 
 
 beams. 
 For Winter use, the glistening "crook-neck" 
 
 gleams ; 
 And branching antlers — trophies of the chase — 
 With musket slung aloft, the precincts grace. 
 
NORWICH — A POEM 2 
 
 AH told of household thrift, bespoke content, 
 And to the scene attractive beauties lent. 
 
 Of all the kindly seasons most enjoyed, 
 Whose near approach the longing mind em- 
 ployed — 
 Most fraught with cheer and charitable deeds, 
 When were forgot all differences and creeds- 
 Was the appointed day of Thanks and Prayer, 
 Which crowned the period of the closing year. 
 Now garnered safely up the golden corn. 
 The fields of all their waving treasure shorn, 
 Each gladdening fruit the horn of Plenty pours, 
 Now gathered home in rich and bounteous 
 
 store?, 
 Like gi-ateful incense, rose, in joyous lays, . 
 The voice of thankfulness and pious praise. 
 How wanned the heart ! — to generous instincts 
 
 true, 
 How every settler's mind expanded grew ! 
 
26 WOBWICH A POEM 
 
 And when assembled at the festive boatdj 
 That groaned beneath the rich, nutritious hoard, 
 What cheerful smiles and signs of mutual love 
 Hallowed the scene — foretaste of Heaven above. 
 Then, (act peculiar to this ancient place,) 
 As evening's shadows gathered on apace, 
 Arose from hill -tops, in a lengthened spire, 
 The fiercely-crackling, luminous bonfire : 
 And thus 'midst shouts and boisterous display. 
 Were closed the pastimes of the glorious day. 
 
 The poet's blessings on those virtuous dames 
 Who flourished then, with curious Scripture 
 
 names ; 
 Or those indeed of equal singularity— 
 "Experience," "Thankful,'^ "Silence," "Sub- 
 mit," " Charity." * 
 No idle, gadding, wasteful queaue were they. 
 Each tliought bestowed on frivolous display ; 
 But, apt to toil, between each stated meal, 
 Sat down to play upon the — spinning-wheel ; 
 
KORWICH A. POEM, 97 
 
 And from the loom substantial fabrics rolled, 
 To serve as covering from the Winter's cold. 
 
 Departed women ! still your virtues shine 
 Like brilliants, products of the richest mine ; 
 Each lighted etai-, each flovv-er that blossoms 
 
 forth, 
 Reminds us of your purity and worth : 
 Though dead, your graces live ; and Memory 
 
 e'er 
 Shall linger round you with affection's tear 
 
 In fancy trace the scene : with every year 
 New settlements successively appear ; 
 Around Improvement waved her magic wand, 
 And smiling Beauty dwelt upon the land. 
 With every year the population grew, 
 A noble race— to Liberty how true I 
 Discussions bearing on the general weal 
 Now oft succeed, and men began to feel 
 A pubhc spirit, and the various cares 
 Of social and political affairs ; 
 
28 NORWICH— A POEM. 
 
 Just regulations framed, and penal laws, 
 To favor Justice, further Virtue's cause. 
 As Time its journey onward slowly sped, 
 New generations rose, then mingled with the 
 
 dead; 
 Until at length, by Freedom's love impelled, 
 Now grown apace, the Colonies rebelled ; 
 Slowly but sure, deep-sown in hearts, the seed.'? 
 Of Independence ripened into deeds ; (9) 
 And here, as elsewhere, O fair Liberty ! 
 Was reared an altar dedicate to thee. 
 
 And onward still the years progressive rolled, 
 Leaving their imprints on the gathered fold : 
 Peace reigned — Arts flourished — sails of 
 
 Commerce filled, 
 And Heaven its blessings o'er the place 
 distilled. 
 
NORWICH — A POEM, 
 
 A S slumberer waking from protracted sleep, 
 Marked by dim visions, and the phantom 
 6 weep 
 Of objects seen in indistinct array, 
 Hails with delight the brilliant dawn of day, — 
 So now, emerging from the misty Past, 
 With specti-al shadows thickly overcast. 
 Do we the Present scan, spread out to sight 
 Beneath the lustre of the noon-day hght. 
 
 Could by some magic power the dead arise, 
 Or make to Earth a visit from the skies, 
 Review the sacred spots where once they dwelt, 
 Feel the same passion's rule which once they 
 felt,— 
 
strangely would those ancestral spirits gaze, 
 Who here inhabited in former days, 
 Upon the prospect now disclosed to view- 
 Each early scene so altered and so new. 
 Instead of that dense mass of forest trees, 
 Which rose so wild and rustled in the breeze, 
 Shrouding the Earth in deep and noisome shade, 
 While through their branches restless squirrels 
 
 played, 
 Behold a City built, the work of man— 
 The various signs of architectural plan — 
 Structures of costly art, the residence 
 Of wealth, industry, and intelligence, 
 Or costlier still, erected to that God 
 The fathers worshipped, who here early trode. 
 The eye reposes on the smiling scene, 
 Sculptured from barren rocks and forests green. 
 
 Those ancient ti'ees ! — alas, how few remain. 
 To link the spirit with the Past again. 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 33 
 
 E'en the old Oak, that by the homestead grew, 
 And seemed tvith age its vigor to renew ; 
 That, undismayed, withstood the stonn's fierce 
 
 ire, 
 The raging whirlwind, and the Ughtning's fire ; 
 Beneath whose branches at the noon of day, 
 When Sol poured down on Earth his hottest 
 
 ray, 
 The weary cattle loved awhile to steal, 
 Or husbandman partook his frugal meal ; 
 Or, when at night the checkering moonlight fell. 
 Fond lovers met their mutual vows to tell ;(10) 
 E'en that old tree, so kindly, strong and brave, 
 Has long since fallen within a lowly grave. 
 
 In vain too does the hovering spirit look 
 For those fanailiar spots so long forsook : 
 The simple cottage that so nestling stood 
 Just by the verge of some long range of wood, 
 The scene within of many a holy joy, 
 Or to the stranger acting as decoy, 
 
34 N03WICH A POEM. 
 
 When wanderiBg far at night, fatigued, he sees 
 The distant candle-hght glimmering through 
 
 the trees ; 
 The ancient well, with mossy bucket himg, 
 Near where the Oak its cooling shadows flung ; 
 The old farm-yard, where merry chanticleer 
 Sounded his note when sti-eaks of dawn appear. 
 
 The rugged foot-paths leading through the 
 place, 
 In vain the spirit-eye now seeks to trace ; 
 But in their stead, the nicely " graded" street, 
 Or travelled "highway" wotild its vision meet ; 
 While in our city prints, could it but read, 
 'T would often find it solemnly decreed 
 In " Comnicn Council," that by such a day 
 There must be made a "flagged" and "curbed" 
 
 sideway. 
 " Alas !" the spirit cries, as round it stalks — 
 " Improved no doubt ! but — give me back those 
 walks, 
 
N0BV7ICH A POSH 35 
 
 If nigged, yet so gi'een and mossy too, 
 Along whose side the blue-eyed violet grew ; 
 Whose narrow range was Uned with tender 
 
 grass, 
 With verdant shrub or scented sassafras ; 
 Where, in my time, the playful lambkins 
 
 skipped, 
 Or oft at dewy morn the maiden tripped." 
 
 Nor at this point would its wide wonder cease, 
 New views, new marvels, momently increase. 
 
 For, (sight astounding e'en to modern eyes,) 
 Along those banks precipitously inclined. 
 That in its day the silent river lined. 
 Wild, rocky, brambled o'er, in solitude, 
 Where foot of man was never known to intrude, 
 A monster fast approaching it espies : 
 With terrible front, vomiting smoke. 
 Like some Imge fiend from prison broke, 
 Dragging in its lengthened wake 
 A load, like some strange monstrous snake, 
 JNIaking the Earth around it quake, 
 
3b NORWICH A POEAiT. 
 
 With lightning-speed it passes the spot, 
 
 Hissing, roaring, fiery-hot, 
 
 Like giant ball from cannon shot ; 
 
 Then raises a screech, how loud and fell ! 
 
 Shriller than e'er was Indian's yell, 
 
 Or damned spirit's evolved from hell. 
 
 — It turns to note its rapid flight, 
 
 But lo ! the thing is out of sight. 
 
 In deep amaze, the spirit-wanderer next 
 Along the stream its onward steps directs ; 
 Noting on either hand the marvellous change- 
 Each ancient spot appearing, oh how strange ! 
 But long ere reaching the old river fords, (11) 
 Where crossed in war's pursuit the Indian 
 
 hordes 
 That met in contest fierce on Sachem's Plain, 
 Their arrows falling hke the pattering rain — 
 It pauses ; — for a scene of busy life, 
 Of active labor and industrial strife 
 Bursts on its gaze : the wilderness it sees 
 Become the seat of numerous factories. 
 
NORWICH A POEM. 37 
 
 Whose constant hum and busy clickinga fill 
 The space around, once so pi'ofoundly still ; 
 Startling long since the genius of the stream. 
 The Beaver, from its ancient, quiet dream : 
 While all around a smiling village rears 
 Its head — an air of thrift and comfort wears ; 
 Like thee, "sweet Auburn," sung in sweeter 
 
 strain 
 By poet(l'2), "loveliest village of the plain," 
 Ere 'midst thy bowers the tyrant's hand was 
 
 seen, 
 And desolation saddened all thy gi-een. 
 
 The spirit turns ; and journeying toward the 
 
 West, 
 Feels at each step with novelty oppressed. 
 Passing the farthest ville, (since changed its 
 
 name,) 
 Which to this day retains its ancient fame, 
 Through the old peaceful Town it slowly roams. 
 Where first the settlers reared their quiet 
 
 homes. 
 
38 NORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Does here the curious spirit-wanderer find 
 
 Aught that presents a souvenir to the mind ? 
 
 Alas ! if for a moment kindhng high 
 
 With pleasure, as some vista meets the eye, 
 
 It deems, exulting, it has found at last 
 
 A spot — a structure — that recalls the Past, 
 
 As quick as gloom succeeds the lightning 
 
 flashes, 
 A closer view its rising prospects dashes. 
 E'en the old quiet Town, so staid beside, 
 Has yielded to Advancement's sweeping tide — 
 The seat of many a cultured dwelling, where 
 Life is drawn out, removed from bustling care. 
 
 On speeds the spirit of the Ancient Past, 
 With eager glances still around it cast ; 
 Views with a pensive, yet a pleased smile, 
 (Pausing to gaze upon the spot awhile,) 
 Where men at last with foul Corruption wed— 
 The new-created City of the Dead. 
 About the sacred ground with lightly tread 
 
ITORWICH A POEil. 39 
 
 It passes— each narrow grassy mound 
 Echoing to spirit's sense its foot-fall's sotmd ; 
 Sees many a spot with blooming flowers made 
 
 glad- 
 Flowers fed by mourners' tears, so sweetly sad ; 
 While through the whole enclosed area there, 
 Are marks of studied taste and pious care. 
 
 But hark ! what noise is that the spirit hears, 
 Like deep-toned murmurs floating to the ears ? 
 With animated eye and hurried bound 
 It hastens forward — ^louder grows the sound. 
 " Ah ! Voice familiar,'' thus the spirit said — 
 '■Thou, thou remain'st, though all things else 
 
 ai-e fled ; 
 The same to-day, as when in earliest time 
 Thou mingledstin with Nature's solemn chime ; 
 The same, O Voice, as when in Childhood's days 
 Thou fill'dst my soul with pleasure and amaze. 
 Ages to come will find no change in thee, 
 Thou truest emblem of eternity !" 
 
40 NOHWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Thu3 spake the spirit; when from out the 
 Falls, 
 ('Tis this which to its mind the Past recalls,) 
 There came a voice in accents clear and long, 
 And thus it trembling rose in plaintive song : 
 
 I'm a child of the forest, and long have I lain 
 Beneath these dark waves which so fearfully 
 pour ; 
 
 Oh, tell me, shall never the lost spirit gam 
 A sight of the happy and bhssful shore i 
 
 That shore where the spirits of brave warriors 
 roam, 
 Where the Great Spirit dwelleth majestic and 
 bright. 
 And gathering his dusky-skinned progeny home, 
 He crowns them with honor and every 
 dehght ? 
 
 Oh, tell me, shall never I enter those grounds, 
 So covered with verdure, the sky so serene. 
 Where, ready for hunting, the wild game 
 abounds, 
 And lit upwith beauty appears the whole 
 scene ? 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 41 
 
 Shall never I wander those bright isles among, 
 Where the Indian-brave glides in his gilded 
 canoe, 
 Nor join evermore in the war-dance and sdng, 
 Nor mingle in sports which brave warriors 
 pursue i 
 
 O child of the forest ! long though thou hast lain 
 Beneath these dark waves which so fearfully 
 pour, 
 
 'Tis decreed by the Spirit, no coward shall gain 
 A sight of that happy and blissful shore. 
 
 When hushed the voice, full well the wan- 
 derer knew 
 
 From whence it came ; one of that craven crew 
 
 Who in blind terror fled from foeman's face, 
 
 And met inglorious death in this wild place. 
 
 Place wild no more ; — for now, with beauteous 
 mien, 
 
 Rising around, a village dense is seen ; 
 
 The iron accents of gigantic mills 
 
 Now breaks the silence of the neighboring hills ; 
 
 6 
 
42 NOBWICH — A POEM. 
 
 With Labor's cry and Industry's low hum, 
 Mingled, the sounds of dashing waters come ; 
 And merry, shining, onward course the waves, 
 Where frighted warriors found their dismal 
 graves. 
 
 One spot beside the wanderer turns to tind. 
 For of the Past that also will remind — 
 The ancient ground where Indian warriors lay, 
 Their stalwart frames long mouldering in decay . 
 'Mid yonder gi'dve it lies — a place so calm, 
 So fresh, so pure, with Nature's holiest balm, 
 It seemed that good spirits dwelt among those 
 
 trees. 
 Shed fragrance round and whispered in the 
 
 breeze. 
 Of all the silent band that fill the place, 
 The wanderer seeks in vain their names to 
 
 trace. 
 One spot alone, one ancient hillock mound. 
 Appears distinct, with recent honor crowned — 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 4<i 
 
 One spot alone, superior to the rest, 
 Boasts of a monument on its gi-assy crest, 
 ' Tis tbine, O Uncas ! bravest of the brave, 
 Thine is the monument, thine the honored 
 
 ;^rave — 
 In grateful memory erected there(13) 
 By Woman — by our Norwich daughters fair. 
 Thus ai'e thy generous deeds, O Warrior bold, 
 Remembered, and thy glorious name extolled. 
 — The falling leaves and ruddy atmosphere 
 Proclaim the glorious Indian Summer near. 
 DeUghtful season, when the hunter loved 
 To seek the game, through the wild forest 
 
 roved ; 
 Ko more enjoyed, its beauties now are shed 
 O'er tho still graves where sleep the ancient 
 
 dead. 
 X'ictor tiud vanquished, chiefs the deadliest foes, 
 Now powerless lie, in solemn, mute repose ;(13) 
 While o'er the land where Indian voices rung 
 So wild and free, a stranger race has sprimg. 
 
44 NORWICH A POEM. 
 
 In fancy thus might I these strains prolong, 
 As other scenes upon the vision throng ; 
 Depict the fancied spirit's pleased surprise, 
 As through the place from point to point it hies : 
 The Plains, once reached by footpath wild and 
 
 dark, 
 Now christened by the modem name of "Park," 
 Where, clustered round, in trim and polished 
 
 row, 
 The tasty mansions rise — a pleasant show ; 
 Or peering forth fi-om groves of tender green, 
 The Gothic Cottage— modem rage — is seen. 
 The valley eastward, once so desolate, 
 Now settled, thriving, populous and great — 
 The home of many an honest artizan. 
 He worthiest of the appellation — Man. 
 The wooded banks that hned the Westward 
 
 Cove, 
 Rising in tiers theatric far above 
 Its cooling waves that flowed so dark and still. 
 Now man's abode, whose happy dwellings fill 
 
IJTORWICH — A POEM. 46 
 
 Tlie space entire, while sunny gardens reach 
 By gradual slopes, down to the watery beacli. 
 That winding stream to the broad ocean flowing, 
 
 Once bearing but the Indian bark iu view, 
 Now with the sails of Commerce spread and 
 glowing, 
 Or ploughed and traversed by the fire-canoe. 
 AH these in turn, 'till from the neighboring 
 
 height, (15) 
 The whole wide prospect bursts upon the 
 eight ! 
 
 Sweet Norwich ! thriving City of the land 
 First settled by the glorious Pilgrim band ; 
 Seat of high worth, of law-abiding peace, 
 Of Churches, Schools, and Labor's just in- 
 crease ; 
 In Industry, an active, human hive. 
 Where thousand actors move and buzz and 
 
 strive, 
 Intent their own, the common purse to fill, 
 By honest toil and well-directed skill ; 
 
46 NORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Where life is seen — its varied hopes and fears, 
 Its plans, its joys, it sorrows, anci its tears ; 
 Where heart-strings tremble with ecstatic 
 
 pleasure. 
 Or, rudely touched, send forth grief's mournful 
 
 measure ; 
 While o'er thy frame, in constant, vigorous 
 
 sweep. 
 Go sti-eams electric and pulsations deep. 
 Sweet spot ! how Memory lights each by-gone 
 
 scene, 
 Each early friendship and enjoyment keen ! 
 How, when the season comes, bright visions 
 
 rise 
 Of monster turkeys. and rich pumpkin pies, 
 And all the customs, kindly, joyous, gay, 
 Wliich mark the period of Thanksgiving Day ! 
 Ah ! to thy constant children, deep the pride. 
 To note thy virtues, aid thine onward stride. 
 
 Here Beauty loads the air around with 
 sweets, 
 As with soft grace it floats along the streets, 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 47 
 
 Or, bowered at home, encharms domestic life, 
 The virtuous daughter and the faithful M'ife. 
 No Harem's sensual laws impose restraint 
 On tender woman, stifling all complaint ; 
 No slavish custom causes dread alarms. 
 Nor Eastern veil conceals her blushing charms : 
 But, filled with love of mercy, forth she goes, 
 To pour the soothing oil o'er human woes ; 
 Or leaving friends, and homo, and native land, 
 Becomes a pilgrim to some foreign strand, 
 To teach benighted heathen souls the way 
 Of Life—to smg Redemption's rapturous lay— 
 And sheds the blessings of her radiant smiles, 
 O'er Earth's dark spots and distant seagirt isles ; 
 In pious deed, no toil too great for her. 
 Last at the Cross, first at the Sepulckre ! 
 
 Here, mingling in the flowing, living tide. 
 The gentle votaries of Plkasure glide ; 
 From chaise or gilded chariotee set down, 
 Freshly arrived from Upper Plains or Town — 
 
'*0 UORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Intent to view each latest costume o'er, 
 Found at the fashionable Dry Goods store — 
 Where Ely spreads his banner to the wind, 
 And BuLKELEY 8ti-ive& to be not far behind. 
 
 There Labob strikes its huge and ponderous 
 
 blows, 
 The anvil rings, the mighty furnace glows ; 
 The grim machinist, with his steam-twirled 
 
 shaft, 
 Assiduous, plies his earnest, useful craft — 
 Joining with curious skill and cunning art, 
 Each giant fabric to its kindred part. 
 
 Enter with noiseless tread this silent room, 
 The chastened dayUght verging into gloom. 
 There ardent Genius, with unfaltering heart, 
 Pursues the mysteries of creative Art. 
 By passion led, with high ambition fired, 
 Behold him as he sits, intent, inspired, 
 Bent o'er the work with eager, kindling eye ; 
 His soul enwraptin silent ecstasy. 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 49 
 
 As v?itli laborious touch and studied thought, 
 The ideal form is on the canvass wrought. 
 Inspiring Art ! worthy thy name — divine ; 
 What sacred beauty, magic powers, are thine ! 
 Wondrous the effects thou spread'st before our 
 
 eyes, 
 To excite our pleasure and create surprise : 
 The cultured mind with admiration warms, 
 In contemplation of thy varied charms. 
 Arrayed in ordered ranks about the walls, 
 Upon a life-like gi'oup the vision falls : 
 Here, in this picture, we distinctly trace 
 The lineaments of some familiar face ; 
 There Beauty glows in lovehness and youth, 
 Here's Manhood stern portrayed with Nature's 
 
 truth; 
 There Childhood beams in all its innocence, 
 Here's seen again the fi'iend departed hence. 
 Thus with deUght each throbbing bosom fills, 
 Each pensive mind with sweet communion 
 
 thrills. 
 
 7 
 
50 NORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Go on, Enchanter, with thy magic art. 
 Fresh conquests reap, fresh ecstasies impart ,' 
 So shalt thou win a name of wide renown, 
 Fix on thy brow the fadeless laurel crown, 
 
 " And Music too— dear Music ! that can touch 
 Beyond all else, the soul that loves it much ;" 
 Now shedding o'er the soul a blissful trance, 
 With strains melodious at the brilliant dance ; 
 Now, sweetest charm to home's endearments 
 
 lending. 
 In perfumed halls with lovely voices blending ; 
 Or holier still, when through the dim aisles steal 
 The solemn breathings of the organ-peal ; 
 Or when at night, for ears of some loved maid, 
 Ascends the soft, impassioned serenade. 
 O Love ! who ever owned thy magic spell. 
 But felt a pleasure which no words can tell ; 
 Electric joys — ^rapture beyond control — 
 That thrilled and blessed the overflowing soul ! 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 51 
 
 Sweet power ! that binds two separate beings in 
 
 one — 
 It the hfe-giving, central, shining Sun ; 
 That throws the human soul in sweet unrest, 
 Like gentle billows on the ocean's breast ; 
 That never dies, let come what fortune will, 
 But to the last bums strongly, brightly still ; 
 That, though long saddened years may inter- 
 vene, 
 Is treasured up in memory ever green, 
 And, while a cruel fate its objects part, 
 Yet'lingers fresh and pure within the heart ! 
 
 Here too is Mind at work— keen, active 
 thought. 
 And many a mental fabric subtly wrought : 
 The astute Counsel, deep-learned in the law, 
 In arguing keen, relentless on a flaw ; 
 The Pastor's themes of terror and of love, 
 Designed to lead his hearers' thoughts above ; 
 
52 NORWICH — A POEM, 
 
 The Doctor, grave, with manners smooth as 
 
 satin, 
 Who scares you with lobeha or with Latin, 
 Yet, kindest friend ! whose ministrations shed 
 Such hope and comfort round the sick man's 
 
 bed: 
 He who Instruction's kindly dews distils, 
 And now and then his pupils' jackets thrills ; 
 And last, although not least, he of the " Press," 
 Who writes himself with royalty's address — 
 Versed in all knowledge, ancient, modern, 
 
 quaint. 
 At once a teacher, lawyer, doctor, saint ! 
 
 But in Wealth's pursuit, such the hurried 
 haste, 
 We've somewhat lacked a Literary taste. 
 H onor to those who like ourselves convene. 
 In arid desert, an oasis green ; 
 And let this toast a welcome meet from all— 
 "The Young Men's Lyceum and Apollo 
 Hall !" 
 
NORWICH A POEM. Od 
 
 Yon beauteous building too, frcsli risen to 
 
 siglit,(16) 
 Whose graceful features and proportions light 
 Fill with such pleasure the discerning eye— 
 A grateful vision to each passer-by- 
 Honor to him, the venerated sage, 
 Whose hberal thoughts its structure did engage; 
 More blessed in future years, his worthy name, 
 Than though encircled with the warrior's fame ; 
 Holier the offerings destined to ascend — 
 Prouder the title— Benefactok, Friend ! 
 O Knowledge! what were Life but barren 
 
 waste, 
 Thy pleasures rare forbidden to the taste ! 
 What, in exchange, could purchase all the bliss 
 Conferred on Man (oh, richest gift !) in this : — 
 To Know— himself, the outspread world ; to 
 
 trace 
 The by-gone history of his kindred race ; 
 To gi'asp, enjoy ; collate each useful fact ; 
 To think, compare, elect, and then to act ; — 
 
54 NORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 Nor this alone — to rise ; his God adore ; 
 Though chained to Earth, through Heaven's 
 
 expanse to soar. 
 Books are the magic lamps, the valued prize, 
 Which cause the mental palace to arise ; 
 Whose costly gems and ornaments of gold, 
 When once possessed, may never more be sold, 
 Nor, unsubstantial, vanish into air — 
 The morning's wreck, the midnight's only care. 
 — Hail ! omen bright of richest good in store— 
 Of moral culture and of mental lore. 
 Which from thy midst, like vivifying streams. 
 Shall issue forth, gladdening with sunlight 
 
 gleams 
 The field of Mind, and warming into hfe 
 Each flower and fruit with use and beauty rife ! 
 
 Books!— What reflections at that simple 
 word 
 Ai'ise — what boyish music long unheard ! 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 55 
 
 The ancient School-house, where our youthful 
 
 hours 
 Were spent bo bhthely 'midst old classic 
 
 bowers — 
 Piping with Tytyrus 'neath the shady beach, 
 Or treasuring up what signs the seasons teach ; 
 Now pouring into " Caesar's Commentary," 
 Or accompanying spirits o'er Acheron's ferry ; 
 Venturing with ^neas into Tartarus, 
 Or Ulysses 'midst some Cyclopian "muss;" 
 With many another highly useful tome, 
 That told us marvellous tales of Greece and 
 
 Rome, 
 How Socrates took hemlock in a cup, 
 And geese once woke the Roman sentinels up — 
 Well I remember where it used to stand, 
 That School-house — since replaced by one more 
 
 grand. 
 Along its side, from off the neighboring hill. 
 At stated times, there ran a famous rill — 
 Our Helicon ; and oft much inspiration 
 Did we derive, as, by its wild gyration, 
 
Ob NOEWICn — A POEM. 
 
 A numerous train of water-wheels were sent 
 Whirling and clapping, with an endless bent. 
 Friend, School-mate, dost remember the old 
 
 tree — 
 '• Choke pears" it bore — which oft we'd climb 
 
 with glee, 
 Acting the jjart of tropic imps to pates 
 That ventured near — our mischief-loving mates? 
 And dost remember how the Master prayed, 
 With one eye closed, the other open laid — 
 Fulfilling thus the Scriptures, where they say, 
 With strict injunction, thou must " watch and 
 
 pray? 
 And with what practised ease, when prayer 
 
 was done, 
 With both eyes oped, the ferruling begun ? 
 
 Ah ! they are gone, those merry days of yore ! 
 The old pear tree remains, but blooms no more ; 
 The famous rill's long vanished from the spot — 
 Dried at its fount — its wonted course forgot ! 
 
NORWICH-^A POEM. 57 
 
 And— like the rest— young hearts that then beat 
 
 sti'ong, 
 Young eyes, the brightest in that schoolboy 
 
 throng, 
 Have long since, pulseless, bearaless, sunk in 
 
 death. 
 Their names oft whispered with affection's 
 
 breath ! 
 .—To you, my living mates, where'er dispersed, 
 Engrossed by ti-affic, or ambition's thirst, 
 A kindly greeting !— oh, let's oft repair 
 In thought, to that old School-house— mingle 
 
 there 
 In spirit as of yore — each steep his soul 
 Anew in Youth's refreshing, sparkling bowl : 
 As some proud bird of air, that, downwai'd 
 
 bending. 
 Now on the water's bosom soft alights, 
 Enjoys the cooling waves around it blending, 
 Then plumes its wings for higher, nobler 
 flights ! 
 
Ob NORWICH — A POEM. 
 
 But the Muse turns from all these virtues rare, 
 To note our frailties— for we have our share. 
 What shall be said of that religious zeal, 
 Which tends e'en common friendship to 
 
 congeal ; 
 Which, while it fills the soul with heavenly fire, 
 Makes man regard his fellow-man with ire ; 
 Confines benevolence in word and deed. 
 To those who yield allegiance to our creed ? 
 Nor less remarked, like poisoned arrows flung, 
 Arc the base workings of the slanderer's tongue, 
 In gi'oss detraction quivering with delight, 
 Intent to gratify some petty spite; 
 The idle gossip, big with marvellous tale. 
 With which some kindred spirit to regale- 
 Pouring the venomed di-aughts, like wormwood 
 
 strewed, 
 With eager malice through each neighborhood ; 
 The meddler, too, who piits his prying nose 
 Into each business that his neighbor does — 
 Knows with exactness, whether good or bad. 
 What for a breakfast his next neighbor had — 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 59 
 
 Who, vulture-like, smells mischief in the 
 
 breeze, 
 And from his smelling swears he clearly sees ; 
 The politician, so intemperate, 
 His every feehng "s turned to bitter hate ; 
 The knave who grinds the faces of the poor, 
 That to his wealth he may aimex the more ; 
 The moral coward, who for sake of gain, 
 Or loving Truth less than the " speech of men," 
 Smothers conviction, trims his wary course. 
 Lives on, a selfish hypocrite, or worse ; 
 The fawning parasite, who seeks to ride 
 In Fashion's ti'ain — to swell the popular side — 
 Joining his jackal cry to Lion's bass — 
 That "Lion," stripped, too often found an 
 
 »dss ; 
 The pert reformer, who bold license takes, 
 And with men's names outrageous havoc makes, 
 Scattering his vile, malicious shafts around. 
 And teaching truth with fierce, vindictive 
 
 sound ; 
 
The silly fop, who struts and— but alas, 
 
 "God made him," Portia cries, "so let him 
 
 pass !" 
 The aristocrat, in fine, puffed up with pride, 
 Who seeks to place a barrier high and wide 
 'Twixt him and those he terms the common 
 
 classes. 
 On whom he looks contemptuously as he 
 
 passes. 
 Vain, witless man ! he little knows the smiles 
 His follies cause 'mongst those he thus reviles ; 
 With what cool judgment they proceed to weigh 
 His just deserts, regardless of display, 
 And see beneath the tinsel covering, 
 Naught but the worm itself — the vile, weak 
 
 thing! 
 
 Thus have we scanned the Past and Present- 
 shown 
 The aspects, changes, of our model Town. 
 Oh, who can tell the destiny in store 
 For thee, sweet Place ! Futurity explore ? 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 61 
 
 ■» 
 
 What great and noble end thou may'st attain, 
 Ere yet the poet sings thy praise again? 
 'Tis not in vain the dancing shuttle gleams, 
 The ponderous wheel makes music to thy 
 
 streams — 
 Thy heart is ti*aversed by the railway car. 
 The telegraph connects thee with afar ; 
 'Tis not in vain, in stateliness appear. 
 Those sti'uctures v^hich thy merchant princes 
 
 rear — 
 The bustling sounds which active Commerce 
 
 brings, 
 The drayman rattUng, as the sailor sings — 
 While freighted barks in quick succession glide 
 O'er Thames's ghstening, gently-flowing tide : 
 Nor yet in vain thy witching daughters bloom, 
 In opulence, or round the busy loom- 
 Like flowers of varied form and brightest hue. 
 Adorning, each, the spot whereon it gi-ew. 
 Peace to thy Children ! prospered be thy ways ! 
 Basking beneath Heaven's kindest, sunniest 
 rays. 
 
62 NORWICH A POEM. 
 
 Thy virtues on our hearts let's deeply trace, 
 
 Thy faults endeavor wisely to erase ; 
 
 Thy natural beauties more and naore admire, 
 
 Fit to be sung by most exalted lyre. 
 
 — Go forth into the w^oods, where Nature reigns, 
 
 As to its close the year now slowly wanes — 
 
 View with enraptured sight the gorgeous scene, 
 
 Where all of late was one unvarying green : 
 
 What brilliant tints, what variegated hues. 
 
 And matchless beauty now the eye pursues — 
 
 As if kind Nature all her colors stored 
 
 Had o'er the woods in one full torrent poured ; 
 
 Intent that ere the foliage passed away, 
 
 She would present one vmsurpassed display ! 
 
 Long since the wild-ilower faded where it grew, 
 
 But to the sky it lent a deeper blue ; 
 
 And though the Earth assumes a vestment 
 
 brovra. 
 The verdant grass has dry and withered gi'own. 
 The leaves before the Autumn breezes fly, 
 That hurry past with low and mournful sigh. 
 
NORWICH — A POEM. 63 
 
 Though ceased the lark, and sporting through 
 
 the bush 
 Rarely are seen the robbin and the thrush — 
 Who but remembers all this wide decay 
 Betokens but a future, brighter day, 
 When shall be heard anew the choral voice 
 Of Nature, bidding all her sons Rejoice ! 
 
SntBs. 
 
 Note 1. 
 Norwich is no less remarkable for her posi- 
 tion, than for her striking scenery ; being loca- 
 ted at the head of the River Thames, which is 
 formed by the junction of two branches — the 
 Yantic and the Shetucket ; the town occupying 
 the intervening tract between the two last 
 named streams, and also stretching along the 
 western bank of the Thames. 
 
 Note 2. 
 The first settlement of Norwich was made in 
 1660, by a company from Saybrook, at the head 
 of which was Capt. John Mason, — a man of 
 great energy, and a conspicuous actor in the 
 early settlement of the State. 
 
Gd 
 
 Note 3. 
 To tLis church the people used to repair with 
 fire-arms upon their shoulders, which were not, 
 however, carried into the house, but stacked 
 without, in some convenient position to be 
 watched by a person at one of the windows. — 
 Miss Calkins^s History of Norwich. 
 
 Note 4. 
 The bloody and protracted warfare between 
 the Mohegans, under Uncas, and the Narragan- 
 setts, under Miantinomo, and the fearful scenes 
 which marked the period of King Philip's war, 
 are topics familiar to most readers. Trumbull, 
 in his History of Connecticut, treats largely of 
 these sanguinary struggles, and of the difficul- 
 ties and perils which beset the early settlers. 
 Some interesting remarks on this subject may 
 also be found in Miss Calkins's History of Nor- 
 wich, to which we hereafter make reference. 
 
 Note 5, 
 
 Trading Cove, — celebrated as a place of 
 
 resort for the Indians in their trading operations 
 
 with the whites. A fancied scene of this kind 
 
 has been finely executed by Mr. J. D. Crocker of 
 
this city. The picture is in the possession of 
 J. G. W. Trumbull, Esq. 
 
 We would here observe that the engraving of 
 Christ Church, which adorns these pages, is 
 from a painting executed by this artist. 
 
 Note 6. 
 The pencil of Mr. Crocker has spiritedly il- 
 lustrated this scene in his picture entitled " The 
 Fhght of Miantinomo," — now the property of 
 
 Erastiis WilUams, Esq. 
 
 Note 7. 
 The grain sprang thick and tall, and hid in green 
 The blackened hillside ; ranks of spiky maize 
 Rose like a host embattled ; the buckwheat 
 Whitened broad acres, sweetening with its 
 
 flowers 
 The August wind.— Brj/ttnf. 
 
 Note 8. 
 Land, at this early period, was given away 
 with a lavish hand. Grants were often made in 
 this indefinite manner :— ' where he can find it,' 
 — 'over the river,' — 'at any place free from en- 
 gagement to another,' — 'at some convenient 
 
68 
 
 place in the common lands,' — ' atractnot inclu- 
 ded in former grants,' — ' what land may be suit- 
 able for him,' — ' as much as he needs in any un- 
 divided land,' &c.— Miss Calkins's History. 
 
 Note 9. 
 And hearts, where, slow but deep, the seeds 
 Of vengeance ripened into deeds. 
 
 Moore^s Fire Worshippers, 
 
 Note ] 0. 
 Then oft, while checkering moonlight fell 
 
 Your woven boughs between — 
 Fond lovers' vows were interchanged 
 Beneath your altars green. 
 
 Mrs. Sigourney, 
 
 Note 11. 
 The tradition is that the Narragansetts were 
 first discovered as they were crossing the She- 
 tucket at a fording place, near the junction of 
 the Quinebaug.— Miss Calkins^ s History. 
 
 Note 12. 
 Goldsmith—" Deserted Village." 
 
69 
 
 Note 13. 
 The monument on Uncas's grave was caused 
 to be erected by the Ladies of Norwich. The 
 foundation stone was laid at the time of the 
 visit of Gen. Jackson to this city in 1833. 
 
 Note 14. 
 The gi*ave of Uncas, as has been stated, is 
 in the Indian burying ground near the Yantic 
 Falls ; that of Miantinomo is in Sachem's Plain, 
 (the place of his capture by Uncas,) near the 
 banks of the Shetucket and a short distance 
 above Greeneville. A space of about two miles 
 divides the graves of these two redoubtable 
 Chiefs and mortal enemies. 
 
 Note 15. 
 One of the most commanding views of Nor- 
 wich, including the river, harbor, Landing, 
 Falls, and a distant prospect of the Tovra, may 
 be obtained from Pepper's, or, according to its 
 modez-n nomenclature, Laurel Hill — ^just across 
 the Railroad Bridge at the mouth of the She- 
 tucket. This spot, by the bye, including about 
 100 acres, has recently been purchased by a 
 company, consisting of Messrs, John A. Rock- 
 
70 
 
 well, Thomas Robinson, and Henry Bill,— con- 
 veniently laid out into building lots, — and from 
 its propinquity to the city, and its attractive lo- 
 cality, bids fair ere long to present the appear- 
 ance of a smiling village. 
 
 Note 16. 
 The reference here is to the Otis Library, an 
 engraving of which appears on the title-page. 
 ITiis entire enterprise has thus far been esta- 
 blished and furnished by Joseph Otis, Esq., 
 a much respected and a most benevolent citizen 
 of Norwich, and is by him designed as a gra- 
 tuitous offering to the present and coming gen- 
 erations of his native town. It is under the 
 management of a Board of Trustees, consisting 
 of the Rev. Dr. Bond, Messrs. William A. Buck- 
 ingham, J. G. W. Trumbull, George Perkins, 
 Robert Johnson, Charles Johnson, and Doct. 
 W. Hooker, with power to perpetuate their 
 number by an election from the citizens of Nor- 
 wich, as vacancies may occur. The site was 
 purchased at a cost of $850, in the year 1848, 
 and the building erected and furnished at a cost 
 of about $5,700. Provision is made for a Pas- 
 toral Library of $1,000 value, of which about 
 
71 
 
 $500 is already expended ; and for a Citizens' 
 Library of six to eight thousand volumes, of 
 which twenty-three hundred volumes are al- 
 ready furnished, at a cost of $2,300 ; making 
 the full expenditure about $9,350. The Library 
 Room is furnished with the portraits of thirty 
 Gentlemen ; among them are those of the Donor 
 of the Library, of each member of the Board of 
 Trustees, and of several of the past and pre- 
 sent Officers and Directors of the Norwich 
 Bank, including some of our most aged citizens, 
 who have recently deceased. They are the 
 work of Mr. A. H. Emmons, of our own town ; 
 and their examination will repay a visit, to any 
 person of taste, and ensure high commendation 
 to the artist. 
 
 These portraits are the property of Charles 
 Johnson, Esq., painted expressly for him by Mr. 
 Emmons. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 863 466 1 #