Yet whenever I cross the rive

On its bridge with wooden

Like the odor of brine from tl Comes the thought of other

And I think how many thousan Of care-encumbered men,

Each bearing his burden of sorr Have crossed the bridge since

I see the long procession

Still passing to and fro,

The young heart hot and restless

And the old subdued and slow

And forever and forever,

As long as the river flows,

As long as the heart has passions, As long as life has woes;

The moon and its broken reflection

And its shadows shall

appear,

As the symbol of love in heaven,

And its wavering image here.

TO THE DRIVING CLOU

GLOOMY and dark art thou, O chief of

Omawhaws;

Gloomy and dark, as the driving cl

name thou hast taken!

Wrapt in thy scarlet blanket, I see through the city's

Narrow and populous streets, as once

gin of rivers

Stalked those birds unknown, that have left us

only their footprints.

What, in a few short years, will remain of thy race but the footprints?

How canst thou walk in these streets, who hast trod the green turf of the prairies?

How canst thou breathe in this air, who hast breathed the sweet air of the mountains?

Ah! 't is in vain that with lordly looks of disdain thou dost challenge

Looks of dislike in return, and question these walls and these pavements,

Claiming the soil for thy hunting-grounds, while down-trodden millions

Starve in the garrets of Europe, and cry from its caverns that they, too,

Have been created heirs of the earth, and claim

its division!

Back, then, back to thy woods in the

of the Wabash!

There as a monarch thou reignest.

the leaves of the maple

Pave the floors of thy palace-halls with

in summer

Pine-trees waft through its chambers t breath of their branches.

There thou art strong and great, a her

of horses!

There thou chasest the stately stag on of the Elk-horn,

Or by the roar of the Running-Water,

the Omawhaw

Calls thee, and leaps through the wild ra a brave of the Blackfeet!

Hark! what murmurs arise from the heart

mountainous deserts ?