54
SUMMER ON THE LAKES.
two or three days, disputed the ground with the lupine and phlox. My companions disliked, I liked it.
Here I thought of, or rather saw, what the Greek expresses under the form of Jove's darling, Ganymede, and the following stanzas took form.
GANYMEDE TO HIS EAGLE,
SUGGESTED BY A WORK OF THORWALDSEN'S.
Composed on the height called the Eagle's Nest, Oregon, Rock River,
July 4th, 1843.
| Upon the rocky mountain stood the boy, |
| A goblet of pure water in his hand, |
| His face and form spoke him one made for joy, |
| A willing servant to sweet love's command, |
| But a strange pain was written on his brow, |
| And thrilled throughout his silver accents now — |
| “My bird,” he cries, “my destined brother friend, |
| O whither fleets to-day thy wayward flight? |
| Hast thou forgotten that I here attend, |
| From the full noon until this sad twilight? |
| A hundred times, at least, from the clear spring, |
| Since the full noon o'er hill and valley glowed, |
| I've filled the vase which our Olympian king |
| Upon my care for thy sole use bestowed; |
| That at the moment when thou should'st descend, |
| A pure refreshment might thy thirst attend. |
| Hast thou forgotten earth, forgotten me, |
| Thy fellow bondsman in a royal cause, |
| Who, from the sadness of infinity, |
| Only with thee can know that peaceful pause |
| In which we catch the flowing strain of love, |
| Which binds our dim fates to the throne of Jove? |
