Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/86

 70 CHARLES HAMMOND. [1820-30. verses, manifested by him when a boy — but upon pohtical or local topics. In earlier life he wrote several poems of more than ordinary merit, and he was always prompt to recognize and encourage evidences of poetic abilities among the young men and women of the West. BOYHOOD. How oft, amid the sordid strife Of worldly wisdom, have I turned To memory's scenes of early life. And o'er my joyous boyhood mourned ; How oft have wish'd, mid care and pain, To be that buoyant boy again ! To sleep beneath the slanting roof. And hear the pattering rain-drops fall, Or listen to the lively proof Of vagrants round my airy hall ; Yet rise at morn with wonted glee, To wade the brook, or climb the tree. To join the sturdy reaper's train — What time the lark her matin sings. When, mounting with impassioned strain. She bathes in light her glittering wings. And, poised in air, is scarcely seen, So high amid the dazzling sheen. 'Twas mine to trap beside the stream, Or angle 'neath the alder's shade ; To tend the plow, or drive the team, Or seek the herd in distant glade, Where oft, from clustering tliickets, slu-ill Rang out the notes of whippowil. Those trembling notes — so long, so wild — Were music to my boyish ear ; Thought backward flies — and as a child E'en now methinks the sound I hear : While fancy spreads before my eye The dewy glade and moonlit sky. The lowing herd, now wending slow, Along the wood, their homeward way ; The winding stream's dark glossy flow, The liUed vale, the woodland gay. Still float in visions bland and bright, As on that balmy summer's night, — When standing on the distant hill. With boy -born fancies wand'ring free, I saw no specter'd form of ill Rise in the bright futurity ; But all, instead, was joyous, clear, Buoyant with hope, untouched with fear. Oh, those were boyhood's cloudless hours. And sweet on wings unsullied flew ; But pride soon dream'd of loftier bowers. And wealth her golden luster threw O'er tempting scenes, as false as fair, And bade my spirit seek her there. And I have souglit her — not in vain ; I might have jjiled her treasures high. But that I scorned her sordid reign. And turned me from her soulless eye. I could not delve her dirty mine, And would not woi'ship at her shi-iue. I would not stoop to flatter power For any vile and selfish end ; I would not change, with every hour, My faith, my feelings, or my friend ; And, least of all, would I intrust My hopes to the accursed dust. The God that reared the woodland heights, And spread the flow'ry valleys wide, Awaked, within my mind, delights That spurned the lures of human pride. And stern forbade, in accents known, To worship aught beneath his throne.