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Thomas Cole's poetry

the collected poems of America's foremost painter of the Hudson River School reflecting his feelings for nature and the romantic spirit of the Nineteenth Century

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190

93.
To CBT

Hast thou forgotten me my friend
Me and the hours in social converse pass'd
When our glad spirits each supporting each
On the strong wings of sympathy upborne
Into the realms of extacy have soar'd—
Far, far, above the dense foul atmosphere
Of Worldly things—Hast thou forgotten me.
Me and our wanderings in the mountain's wilds
By those lone lakes that sleep so calm
Beneath the shadows of the piny hills—
Or that bleak cliff on which we stood amaz'd
And look'd upon the world beneath our feet,
And on the clouds huge rolling o'er our heads
And felt like spirits of the air sublime
Free and unfettered by our mortal bonds.
Hast thou forgotten too our deep commune
When night had hung o'er mountain top and vale
Her gloomy veil impervious, and had pour'd,
On every eye but ours, the balm of sleep.
Though darkness was around, our souls were light
Kindled by inspiration—and we had
Such views sublime of the great universe
And of its God as mortals seldom gain—
Hast thou forgotten me my friend
O no! it cannot cannot be; our souls
So many times have drunk from the same cup
Which nature held—that they are link'd
In hands which nought but death hath pow'r to break.