And I!-my heart is full of joy, And gratitude is there, That He, who might my life destroy, The friends I once condemned, are now Affectionate and true : I wept a pledged one's broken vow— And now there is a happiness In everything I see, Which bids my soul rise up and bless The God who blesses me. MOONLIGHT ON THE HUDSON. BY C. F. HOFFMAN. [Written at West Point.] I'm not romantic, but, upon my word, There are some moments when one can't help feeling As if his heart's chords were so strongly stirred By things around him, that 'tis vain concealing A little music in his soul still lingers Whene'er its keys are touched by Nature's fingers : And even here, upon this settee lying, With many a sleepy traveller near me snoozing, Thoughts warm and wild are through my bosom flying, Like founts when first into the sunshine oozing: For who can look on mountain, sky, and river, Like these, and then be cold and calm as ever? Bright Dian, who, Camilla like, dost skim yon 232 MOONLIGHT ON THE HUDSON. Tell me where'er thy silver barque be steering, By bright Italian or soft Persian lands, Or o'er those island-studded seas careering, Whose pearl-charged waves dissolve on coral strandsTell if thou visitest, thou heavenly rover, A lovelier spot than this the wide world over? Doth Achelous or Araxes flowing Twin-born from Pindus, but ne'er meeting brothersDoth Tagus o'er his golden pavement glowing, Or cradle-freighted Ganges, the reproach of mothers, The storied Rhine, or far-famed Guadalquiver, Match they in beauty my own glorious river? What though no turret gray nor ivied column Along these cliffs their sombre ruins rear? What though that mouldering fort's fast-crumbling walls Its sinking arches once gave back as proud MOONLIGHT ON THE HUDSON. 233 For here amid these woods did He keep court, Before whose mighty soul the common crowd Of heroes, who alone for fame have fought, Are like the Patriarch's sheaves to Heaven's chosen bowed He who his country's eagle taught to soar, And fired those stars which shine o'er every shore. And sights and sounds at which the world have wondered, Young Freedom's cannon from these glens have thundered, And yet not rich in high-souled memories only, Is every moon-touched headland round me gleaming, Each cavernous glen and leafy valley lonely, And silver torrent o'er the bald rock streaming : Where, tell me where, pale watcher of the night- Where dost thou find a fitter place on earth To nurse young love in hearts like theirs to birth? 234 MOONLIGHT ON THE HUDSON. Even as I gaze upon my memory's track, The hour is his! and while his hopes are soaring Can she resist that gush of wild adoring Fresh from a heart full volumed as the tide? Tremulous yet various is that glorious daughter Of loveliness, as is the star-paved water. |