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[III. It was the summer, and in early June]
It was the summer, and in early June,
When all things taste the luxury of health,
With the free growth of foliage on the trees,
And o'er the fields a host of Clover blooms,
And through the life and thought of the fresh world,
Unsorrowing peace, and Love like softest air.
'Twas then I took my way along the hills,
Upon the sandy road that devious winds;
At last, I came to happy Meredith.
This beauteous spot is circled in with heights,
And at a little distance Gunstock stands,
A bare, bold mountain looking o'er the lake,
That shines like glass within the emerald meads.
When all things taste the luxury of health,
With the free growth of foliage on the trees,
And o'er the fields a host of Clover blooms,
And through the life and thought of the fresh world,
Unsorrowing peace, and Love like softest air.
'Twas then I took my way along the hills,
Upon the sandy road that devious winds;
At last, I came to happy Meredith.
This beauteous spot is circled in with heights,
And at a little distance Gunstock stands,
A bare, bold mountain looking o'er the lake,
That shines like glass within the emerald meads.
Much was I pleased, to mark the simple life
That man yet leads among the mountain shades,
Nor failed to see a Farmer, who was born
Upon the side of Gunstock, where his sire
Had tilled the fertile soil,—himself a son
Of Nature, framed to love the heights and fields.
The meaning of the landscapes in his heart,
Shone with a rural splendor, and his eye
Trembled with Humor as it roved abroad,
Gladdened by each familiar scene of youth;
While in his mind the Words of men were stored,
Quaint phrases, and wise sayings manifold.
Not often have I met thus wise a man,
Not often heard such merry words, and learned
That Nature pours her wealth unstinted forth,
Upon the unknown, careless, and remote.
That man yet leads among the mountain shades,
Nor failed to see a Farmer, who was born
Upon the side of Gunstock, where his sire
Had tilled the fertile soil,—himself a son
Of Nature, framed to love the heights and fields.
The meaning of the landscapes in his heart,
Shone with a rural splendor, and his eye
112
Gladdened by each familiar scene of youth;
While in his mind the Words of men were stored,
Quaint phrases, and wise sayings manifold.
Not often have I met thus wise a man,
Not often heard such merry words, and learned
That Nature pours her wealth unstinted forth,
Upon the unknown, careless, and remote.
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