Wlliam Gilmore Simms
The Simms Review (Vol 16: No 2) >> Monody, on the Death of Gen. Charles Cotesworth Pinckney >> Page 15

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Page 15

Poetry | 1825
Transcription Whilst all around bow'd to its restless course,
Nor dared to look,---that Oak withstood its force !
The blast had ceased its fury—but its mark
Had rested on "the forest---it was dark !
The streanilet shared its horrors—there was blood
In torrents, and strew'd limbs upon its flood ;
The mountain's brow own'd many an unknown stain--
The vale—'twas long, ere it look'd green again---
Nature was clothed in sadness---vale and hill
Had mingled their pure forms with crime and ill
But 'midst that scene,- so desolate and lone,
Mark'd ye--that giant Oak, or had it gone
I look'd upon the. forest----(so the form
Of Time hath told us,) and I saw the storm,
Its first and latest---o'er the vast expanse
of mountains, and of forests---with a glance
I knew their evils—few had stood, and they
Seem'd but to harbinger their own decay.--
Many were prostrate,---but each oak that fell
Sunk deep in earth, and front its natural cell,
Quick, from tile acorn, foster'd with the blood,
That flowed untainted thro' a vestal flood,
Sprung the young sapling, and arose from earth
With all his parents pride, and equal birth,
IIe stands _ in youth cal promise—but the hand
Of fury had been shaken o'er that land--