Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/607

 ANNA EICKEY ROBERTS. Anna S. Rickey, one of the poetical contributors of the Columbian and Great West, in 1850 and 1851, is a native of Cincinnati, we believe. In 1851 her poems were collected in a volume of one hundred and thirty-eight duodecimo pages, and published at Philadelphia by Lindsay and Blakiston. The book, which was embel- lished with a portrait of its author, was entitled "Forest Flowers of the "West." In 1852 Miss Rickey was married to Mr. Roberts of Philadelphia, in which city she now resides. LA BELLE RIVIERE. Beautiful river ! on thy placid stream The Indian's light canoe is seen no more. Gliding as swiftly as a winged dream, Partino; the waters with his fiashino; oar : The hills slow rising from each wood- fringed shore. Are mirrored in thy calm, pellucid wave, Who? e rippling pours a requiem as it rolls. In softened murmurs, by the humble grave Of that brave, hardy band who sleep un- known. Their resting-place unmarked by monu- mental stone. And they, the rangers of the broad domain. Lords of the forest, hold no longer sway ; Thy native children come not back again. All, all have vanished, like the dew, away ; Or, like the summer leaves that I have toss'd Upon thy sunlit wave, a moment seen Whirling along the current and then lost. Leaving no lingering trace of what hath been. No mark to tell, upon life's ceaseless river, That they have passed from its dark tide forever. Within thy noble forest now is heard The sound of ringing ax : the silence ne'er Was broken, save by the sweet vv^ild bird, Or gentle footfall of the timid deer, Before the bold, undaunted pioneer Had sought the land of promise, the far West, And made thy lonely shore his dwelling- place, And reared a home within its fertile breast. And filled it with the sounds of busy life, With all its cares, its pleasures, and its strife. Thy hills re-echo to the cheerful sound Of pealing church-bells, and the meiTy hum Of busy hands and voices ; and around Thy shores are gathered many who have come As wanderers seeking for a place of rest, A peaceful home upon the fertile soil, (591)