RUTH.

WHEN Ruth was left half desolate,
Her father took another Mate;
And Ruth, not seven years old,
A slighted child, at her own will.
Went wandering over dale and hill,
In thoughtless freedom bold.

And she had made a pipe of straw,
And from that oaten pipe could draw
All sounds of winds and floods;
Had built a bower upon the green,

As if she from her birth had been

An infant of the woods.

Beneath her father's roof, alone

She seemed to live; her thoughts her own;

Herself her own delight:

Pleased with herself, nor sad, nor gay,

She passed her time; and in this way

Grew up to woman's height.

There came a youth from Georgia's shore

A military casque he wore,

With splendid feathers drest;

He brought them from the Cherokees ;

The feathers nodded in the breeze,

And made a gallant crest.

From Indian blood

you deem him sprung:

Ah! no, he spake the English tongue,

And bore a soldier's name;

And, when America was free
From battle and from jeopardy,
He 'cross the ocean came.

CA

With hues of genius on his cheek

In finest tones the Youth could speak :
-While he was yet a boy,

The moon, the glory of the sun,

And streams that murmur as they run,
Had been his dearest joy.

He was a lovely Youth! I guess
The panther in the wilderness
Was not so fair as he;

And when he chose to sport and play,

No dolphin ever was so gay

Upon the tropic sea.

Among the Indians he had fought,

And with him many tales he brought
Of pleasure and of fear;

Such tales as told to any maid

By such a Youth, in the green shade,
Were perilous to hear.

He told of girls-a happy rout!

Who quit their fold with dance and shout,

Their pleasant Indian town,

To gather strawberries all day long ;
Returning with a choral song

When daylight is gone down.

He spake of plants divine and strange
That every hour their blossoms change,
Ten thousand lovely hues !

With budding, fading, faded flowers,
They stand the wonder of the bowers,
From morn to evening dews.

He told of the magnolia,27 spread

High as a cloud, high over head!

The cypress and her spire;

-Of flowers 28 that with one scarlet gleam

Cover a hundred leagues, and seem

To set the hills on fire.

The Youth of green savannahs spake,
And many an endless, endless lake,

With all its fairy crowds
Of islands, that together lie,
As quietly as spots of sky
Among the evening clouds.

And then he said, "How sweet it were,
A fisher or a hunter there,

A gardener in the shade,

Still wandering with an easy mind,

To build a household fire, and find

A home in every glade!

"What days and what sweet years! Ah me! Our life were life indeed, with thee

So passed in quiet bliss,

And all the while," said he, "to know
That we were in a world of woe,

On such an earth as this!"

And then he sometimes interwove
Dear thoughts about a father's love;
"For there," said he, "are spun
Around the heart such tender ties,

That our own children to our eyes

Are dearer than the sun.

"Sweet Ruth! and could you go with me

My helpmate in the woods to be,

Our shed at night to rear;

Or run, my own adopted bride,

A sylvan huntress at my side,

And drive the flying deer!

"Beloved Ruth!" No more he said.

Sweet Ruth alone at midnight shed

A solitary tear:

She thought again—and did agree

With him to sail across the sea,

And drive the flying deer.

"And now, as fitting is and right,

We in the Church our faith will plight, A husband and a wife."

Even so they did; and I may say

That to sweet Ruth that happy day

Was more than human life.

Through dream and vision did she sink, Delighted all the while to think

That on those lonesome floods,

And

green savannahs, she should share His board with lawful joy, and bear His name in the wild woods.

But, as you have before been told,

This Stripling, sportive, gay, and bold,

And with his dancing crest,

So beautiful, through savage lands

Had roamed about, with vagrant bands

Of Indians in the West.

The wind, the tempest roaring high,

The tumult of a tropic sky,

Might well be dangerous food

For him, a Youth to whom was given

So much of earth-so much of heaven,

And such impetuous blood.

Whatever in those climes he found
Irregular in sight or sound.

Did to his mind impart

A kindred impulse, seemed allied

To his own powers, and justified
The workings of his heart.