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I see a great eagle up there in the air sailing with pois'd wings, quite low. Squads of red-legged soldiers are drilling; I suppose some of the new men of the Brooklyn 14th; they march off presently with muskets on their shoulders. In another place, just below me, are some soldiers squaring off logs to build a shanty chopping away, and the noise of the axes sounding sharp.
In gardens oft a beauteous flow'r there grows, By vulgar eyes unnoticed and unseen; In sweet security it humbly blows, And rears its purple head to deck the green. This flower, as nature's poet sweetly sings, Was once milk-white, and hearts-ease was its name; Till wanton Cupid pois'd his roseate wings, A vestal's sacred bosom to inflame;
"Yet the lily has drank of the show'r, And the rose 'gins to peep on the day; And yon bee seems to search for a flow'r, As busy as if it were May: In vain, thou senseless flutt'ring thing, My heart informs me, 'tis not Spring." May pois'd her roseate wings, for she had heard The mourner, as she pass'd the vales along; And, silencing her own indignant bird, She thus reprov'd poor Silvio's song.
"I have found the law of my own poems," was the unspoken but more-and-more decided feeling that came to me as I pass'd, hour after hour, amid all this grim yet joyous elemental abandon this plenitude of material, entire absence of art, untrammel'd play of primitive Nature the chasm, the gorge, the crystal mountain stream, repeated scores, hundreds of miles the broad handling and absolute uncrampedness the fantastic forms, bathed in transparent browns, faint reds and grays, towering sometimes a thousand, sometimes two or three thousand feet high at their tops now and then huge masses pois'd, and mixing with the clouds, with only their outlines, hazed in misty lilac, visible.
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