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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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On seeing that a favorite tree of the Author's had been cut down—

And is the glory of the forest dead,
Struck down?—Its beauteous foliage spread
On the base earth?—O! ruthless was the deed
Destroying man! What demon urg'd the speed
Of thine unpitying axe? Didst thou not know
My heart was wounded by each savage blow?
Could not the lovliness that did begird
These boughs, dis-arm thine hand and save the bird
Its ancient home, and me a lasting joy?—
Vain is my plaint! All that I love must die;
But death sometimes leaves hope—friends yet may meet,
And life be fed on expectation sweet—
But here no hope survives—never again shall o'er me spread
Never again, the gentle shade of my beloved tree—
Catskill June 22, 1834