THE UNITED STATES.
157
Stern tree of the old oaken forest! thy tone
Is full of the knowledge of years that have flown;
Yet thy secrets we read in the wave of each bough,
As the light and the shade which pass over them now.
Is full of the knowledge of years that have flown;
Yet thy secrets we read in the wave of each bough,
As the light and the shade which pass over them now.
They are dark with the horror of years that are fled,
And bright with the sunbeams around them bespread,
Now, sad as the heart, when the winter-wind grieves,
Then glad as the zephyrs that play midst thy leaves.
And bright with the sunbeams around them bespread,
Now, sad as the heart, when the winter-wind grieves,
Then glad as the zephyrs that play midst thy leaves.
Old tree! I have fancied a voice from each leaf,
Like a whisper of gladness, a murmur of grief;
And they come to my heart like a voice from the dead,
Though "the tales of the past with the past all have fled."
Like a whisper of gladness, a murmur of grief;
And they come to my heart like a voice from the dead,
Though "the tales of the past with the past all have fled."
THE UNITED STATES.
Mine own dear land! I prize thee beyond measure,
And fold thee in my heart, the richest treasure,
The world could offer to my earnest prayer;
And fold thee in my heart, the richest treasure,
The world could offer to my earnest prayer;
