Amid Inspiring Scenes
AKA Fragments from an Hour of Inspiration
by Jonathan E. Hoag
Prologue by H. P. Lovecraft
I. PROLOGUE
The western sun, whose warm, rubescent rays
Touch the green slope with soul-awak'ning blaze,
A thoughtful bard reveals, whose polish'd flights
Spring from the scene on Dillon's pleasant heights.
An ancient boulder is the poet's seat,
A verdant vista fronts the blest retreat;
From distant banks there comes th' elusive gleam
That speaks the Hudson's silent, stately stream.
Here, ere the birth of man, a granite train
In speechless splendor rul'd the rising main;
In later days an Indian horde decreed
The varying fortunes of the fragrant mead.
Here Dutchmen trod, till Albion's stronger sway
Carv'd out the nation that we know to-day;
'Twas here th' insurgent swain his King defied,
And rural rebels broke Burgoyne's bold pride.
Such is the scene, with shades historic rife,
That Hoag, in numbers, gives eternal life.
II. GLACIAL BOULDERS
"Tell, ancient giants, granite boulders gray,
Ye mute survivors of a distant day,
Whence came ye here, and why? Pray let me know
Your age-kept mysteries of long ago.
Relate at last the story yet untold;
Your tale I'll honor, and your secret hold!"
Thus plead the sage, and as the boulders heard,
Their hoary patriarch spake the answering word,
"Our rugged paths o'er distant hillsides trace;
Our footprints measure on the mountain's face;
Mark where a glacial sea our masses led,
And left us strewn along its ancient bed;
Learn how our way o'er crags and granite hills
We wrought in splendor with our diamond drills!
Though born in silences of Arctic snow,
The frozen flood constrained us soon to go,
Like birdlings from the nest ...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Go to begin of the document
Go to previous page
Go to next page
Go to the end of document
