Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/266

LAURA M. THUIISTON. Laura M. Thueston, whose maiden name was Hawlej, was born in December, 1812, in Norfolk, Connecticut. She prepared herself for the profession of teaching by completing her education at the Hartford Female Seminary. She taught school, tirst in Hartford, atterward in New Bedford, in the same State, and then in Phila- delphia. While teaching in the latter place she was induced to remove West, and take charge of an Academy for young women in New Albany, Indiana. In September, 1839, she was married to Franklin Thurston, a merchant of New Albany. She laid aside her profession, but continued to reside in the same place until her death, which occurred July twenty-first, 1842. Mrs. Thurston wrote under the signature of Viola, publishing her poems in the Louisville Journal, and in Gallagher's Hesperian. Although cut off in the maturity of her powers, the poems, few in number, which she gave to the press, furnish evidence of a highly gifted poetic mind. Like most of our early poets, she wrote from the impulse of her feelings, not having fame or remuneration in view, and her poems are appeals to the heart. Yet there is more than ordinary vigor in her lines, and generally a very melodious versification. She had tlioroughly imbibed the spii'it of her new home, and her poems are more thoroughly Western than any other of our female poets of her time. Her poems have never been collected in a volume, although immediately after her death there were promises made of such a collection. ON CROSSING THE ALLEGHANIES. The broad, the bright, the glorious West, Is spread before me now ! Where the gray mists of morning rest Beneath yon mountain's brow ! The bound is past — the goal is won — The I'egion of the setting sun Is open to my view. Land of the valiant and the free — My own Green Mountain land — Ao thee, And thine, a long adieu ! I hail thee. Valley of the West, For what thou yet shalt be ! I hail thee for the hopes that rest Upon- thy destiny ! Here — from this mountain height, I see Thy bright waves floating to the sea, Thine emerald fields outspread. And feel that in the book of fame, Proudly shall thy recorded name In later days be read. Yet while I gaze upon thee now. All glorious as thou art, A cloud is resting on my brow, A weight upon my heart. To me — in all thy youthful pride — Tliou art a land of cares untried. Of untold hopes and teal's. Thou art — yet not for thee I grieve ; But for the far-off land I leave, I look on thee with tears. ( 250 ) ^.