Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/268

264 The minister of evil, claims from us Some tribute of respect. But, most of all, Those ancient forms that lodge a living soul, Bearing their passport from the Almighty hand Graved on the furrowed brow, and silver hair,— Yes, most of all to them our hearts would yield That tender reverence, which so well befits Them to receive, and us with love to pay.

Newport, the garden-isle of Narragansett, received from some of the British officers, during its investment by their troops, the name of the "Eden of America." Those who have enjoyed its delightful scenery during the summer months, rode upon its beaches, and inhaled its balmy atmosphere, will scarcely deem these epithets exaggerated.

It is a spot to be remembered for years, with a fond desire of again beholding it. Thus, it is cherished by me, as a fine picture in the gallery of the mind, mellowed by time, though its minuter tints have faded, and been merged in the shadow of years.

Yet the Old Tower still stands prominently forth on memory's tablet, as when first beheld crowning its verdant eminence, and looking down upon the billowy bay. Its origin has given rise to many opinions and theories, from the matter-of-fact man, who perseveres in designating it as the "old stone wind-mill," to the