BY J. E. HOAG.
Unseen the ancient rocks repos’d
And hidden waters darkly ran;
No sails or spires the sun disclos’d
To mark the coming reign of man.
And here, in time, where piny steep
O’erlooks the torrent’s rock-strewn bed.
There stole, to wake the scene from sleep,
The copper brave with stealthy tread.
Beside the rainbow-crowned cascade
Where gorges dark the spray o’er-hung
His prayer to Manitou he made
Amidst a world unmarred and young.
No whirling wheel the music swelled,
As the old Tiandawa rang,
But onward with the braid of old
The flood of antique ocean rang.
Then to those murmuring vales of yore
One came with vision clear and brave,
And planning what none saw before,
A world of busy hearthsides gave.
Today his fame in bronze and stone
Salutes the reverential eye,
Whilst fancy pictures, hov’ring lone,
The vineclad cot that stood close by.
Here happy children long ago
Gather’d the flowers of morning meads,
Or, led by bird-songs, sweet and low,
Sought berries for their simple needs.
But all unmark’d the home-spot stays,
Nor bows the traveler passing near;
O’erlook’d by recognition’s rays,
To fading mem’ry only dear.
Vista-Buena, Greenwich, N. Y.
Troy Times. August 13, 1926: 14 col 2.