Backwoods poems

Preface

The little book here presented embraces the rhymes and poems written by me in a period of thirty years, beginning with my boyhood. All of them have already been laid before the public in newspapers and periodicals ; but, like autumnal leaves cast on the rushing stream, they have been swept away, and only the writer's scrap-book has saved them from oblivion.

It is not through affectation that I have given my book the title it bears. I chose this title in my boyhood, when I first conceived the design of i^ublishing, some day, a book of poems. Nor is the title inappropriate. While I was yet an infant, my father, with his family, settled down in a wilderness, where I grew up with the population, rarely ever going out of the neighborhood for forty years. Save what I learned from books and newspapers, and from the conversation of those into whose society I was thrown —

The little world in which I lived, Was all the world I knew.

The old log school-house with a single window and a single door— described in one of my earlier pieces — was my alma tnater; the green woods were my campus; and if I climbed Parnassus, 'twas not with Homer, " by dint o' Greek," but with trusty dogs, chasing the mottle-coated hare over the bush-eovered hillock. Thus isolated and thus surrounded, both my intellectual and my moral nature could not fail to receive a coloring, which, reflected on my rhythmic effusions, renders the appellation, "BACKWOODS PoEMS," peculiarly significant.

I am well aware, that there are many crudities and imperfections in these poems, particularly in the earlier pieces. I have kept all; I could not discard the poor children of my brain on account of deformity.

Such as they are, I present my rhymes to the public, craving their indulgence if I can not gain their applause. One merit, at least, I claim, for which I hope my readers will give me credit. I have not attempted to carry them to lofty heights, nor into deep waters. Knowing the weakness of my arm, I have kept my little boat near the shore !

In the years to come, I hope — what writer did not so hope P — that I will have many, very many, readers. In the variety presented, I hope that each reader will find something to please, something to while away a passing hour, and somewhere in these pages — I pray God !— something to incite to a nobler, better life.

Columbus, Miss. 1878.

i^LIL^A..

Does the pale-face see the diamonds bright

Which twinkle on the brow of night ?

As many moons as these beiore

Your fathers' feet had trod our shore,

There lived, close by Sebolee stream,

A chief, the whisper of whose name

"Would make his en'my's cheek grow pale.

And cause the boldest heart to quail.

The flow'ry prairies on the East,

The Father of Waters on the West,

The counti'y of the long leaved pine

Upon the South, the "bloody line"

Toward the North, beyond which dwelt

The Chickasaws, who often felt

This chieftain's ire — these were the lines

Which bounded Gray Hawk's wide domains.

A thousand hamlets owned him lord ;

Ten thousand warriors, at his word,

Would grasp the tomahawk and bow.

And fall upon the trembling foe,

Like the iierce hurricane whose force

Spreads death in its impetuous course.

On many a field his tow'ring form

Had stood amid the battle's storm ;

His sinewy arm had dealt the blow

Of death to many a gallant foe ;

A thousand scalps in his wigwam hung,

And the Western world with his praises rung.

The moon waned oft, the chief waxed old ;

His eye grew dim— his mien less bold ;

His arm grew weak, his footstep slow,

And his raven locks turned white as snow.

Many moons before, his aged wife

Had winged her flight from the haunts ot life

To the spirit land. An only child—

The sweet Palila— on the chieftain smiled.

O, she was tair as th' wild i-ed rose

Which in the dark green forest grows.

Her hair was black as th' wing of night ;

Her eyes as bright as th' orbs ot light ;

Her step like that of the timid doe ;

Her voice as soft as the streamlet's flow.

As the tendrils of the creeping vine

Around the sapless oak entwine.

And shield it from the wintry blast

When the halcyon days of Spring are past ;

So young Palila's tender care Made light the troubles of her sire. Her own fair hands at night and morn Prepared his meals — the parched com. The smoking venison, the fruits Herself had culled, and many roots ' Whose sav'ry taste is yet unknown To the wise pale face. The gloomy frown Which like a threatening cloud displayed Itself on Gray Hawk's brow, would fade Into a smile, when she, the pride Of his old age. was by his side.

Young braves from many a distant land Had sought the young Palila's hand. Many a costly gift they bore And laid at the old chieftain's door : Gay plumes and costly gems t' adorn The young Palila's brow ; green corn And luscious fruits from th' southern isles. Where the hunter is lured by fairies' wiles ; The shaggy skins of grizzly bears Slain in their lofty mountain lairs ; And deer-skins soft, dyed many a-hue — Green, orange, yellow, red and blue. But the chief would send the braves away, And bid them call some other day.

The young Palila never smiled

Upon their suit. Love's passion wild

Had never fired her youthful blood.

Content to wander in the wood,

And cull the flowers of varied hue

Which there in rich profusion grew ;

Or with her bow and arrow slay

The redbird or the noisy jay.

And with their plumage soft and fair

Adorn her glossy raven hair —

She never sighed for man's warm love.

Ne'er wished from her fair home to rove.

II

Close where the chieftain's wigwam stood, A little stream flowed through the wood. On each side of the narrow plain In which it ran, a verdant chain Of gently sloping hills arose.

Beside the stream a fountain flows.

Whose magic waters, bright and clear,

Oft steals, and paints with heav'nly hues

"Were sought by red men, far and near.

Whatever meets the enraptured eye

To heal their sickness, and impart

In earth, the ocean or the -ky.

New life and strength to every part.

She sat and gazed with dreamy look Into the waters of the brook,

One day the dark-eyed Indian maid

Where th' azure sky, and spreading trees

Into this lovely valley strayed.

With branches waving in the breeze

Wearied with wand'ring through the wood.

Were dimly mirrored. The spirit land,

Slie sat her down in pensive mood

With all its bright, immor.al band.

Beneath a bluff which overhung

Its verdant plains and valleys fair,

The little stream. Her bow unstrung

Its silvery trees and flowers rare,

Lay at her feet : her arrows tied

Seemed floating in the dim twilight,

In a quiver neat, hung by her side.

Far down below the waters bright.

A wreath of Autumn flowers around

But soon her blissful dieaui was broke.

Her broad and lofty brow was bound.

The crimson hue her cheeks forsook.

In glossy waves her raven hair

And left tliem deadly paie wiLli fear.

Fell on her nut-brown bosom bare.

Reflected in the water clear,

Her skirt of doe-skin half concealed

She saw the hideous outlines

Her rounded limbs, and half revealed.

Of a panther crouched among some vines

And moccasins ot yellow hue.

Embroidered with green and blue.

Its an L'v, SL'ovlin"- eyes were red

Adorned her dainty little leet.

As glowing coals ot fire ; its jaws

Her cheeks were glowing with the heat

Half oped, displayed two shining rows

Of exercise, and her eyes were bright

Of long sharp teeth ; while on the ground

With wild enthusiastic light,

Its tail was writhing round and round

As she witli soul enrapt surveyed

Like a wounded snake. One moment short

The seene which nature here outspread.

Palila gazed with pulseless heart Upon the sight, then rose to flee.

The Indian summer had just begun.

Fearful that he would lose his prey.

The mellow rays (ff th' Autumn sun

The panther sprang with piercing scream;

Diffused a light soft and serene

But fell midway the little stream—

O'er Nature's face. The robe of green

^_ An arrow quivering in his heart.

AVhich gentle Spring o'er the forest threw.

Soon a young brave, with bow and dart, ■

Was changed to one of varied hue.

Leaped from the blufi', and stood beside

The luscious grapes and muscadines

The atflrighted girl. His face was dyed

In clusters hung upon the vines.

A sanguine red— the dreadful hue

Upon the huckleberry bush,

Which the Indian maiden too well knew,

Bending with fruit, the russet thrush

Was the hated badge of Gray Hawk's foes—

Poured forth her sweet melodious song.

The black-eyed squirrel frisked among

" Fear not, sweet maiden," spoke the youth.

The hickory trees, and at each bound

In tones that breathed of love and truth.

Scattered tlio brown nuts on the ground.

AVhile young Palila, like a hare Caught in the hunter's fatal snare,

The evening waned; in the distant west

Stood trembling by. "Shrink not away.

The sun sank gently down to rest

Think you that Toppasha would slay

Upon a soft, voluptuous bed

Yon cruel beast, only to wreak

Of rosy clouds. His last rays shed

His hate on you ? Think you he'd take

A flickering gleam upon the pines,

The lite he risked his own to save 1

Which stretched their misty, blue outlines

Such deeds would not become the brave."

Like a mighty wall with towers high.

And with a smile of winning grace

Across the face of the western sky.

He gazed into the maiden's face ;

Still sat Palila by tlie stream.

Gazed till her heart with quick'ning beat

Wrapped in that sweet, poetic dream

Drove the warm blood in blushes sweet

Which o'er the soul, like twilight dews,

To her soft cheeks ; and the liquid light

Backwoods Poems.

Of wild and rapturous delight Glowed ill her dark and Unguid eyes, Like sunbeams in the morning skies. Soon did Palila cease to tear ; Soon did her ravished, willing ear Drink ia each softly spoken word The stranger's el'quent lips outpoured.

Ha told her of his native hills

F.ir to the Xcrth, where crystal rills

Now gently raui-mured through the dell,

Now in wild cascades headlong fell

O'er jutting rocks ; where all day long.

The woods were voeal with the song

Of the mocking bird and timid quail.

Which echo bore from hill to vale.

And down the stream meand'ring by.

Till it melted in the distant sky ;

■\V nere i a herce-eyed eagle built her nest

Mid fleecy clouds, upon the crest

Of the tow'ring pine ; and the hunted stag

Disdainful leaped from crag to crag,

Switt as the equinoctial wind.

Leaving the hunter far behind.

He told her of his chieftain sire,

Before whose dreadful eye ot lire

The loemau quailed with tremblmg heart.

As from the lightning's forked dart ;

And of the hosts that chief could .ead

Against the foe in th' hour of need.

And then how he had chanced to roam

So far from his fair mountain home.

One day, while hunting in the wood,

He spied a creature strange which sf.ood

Down in a dark and deep ravine,

Which lay two rooky luil> between.

In shape 'twas like a little doe ;

But white and spotless as the sno v

Which lines the earth, when the Winter King

Spreads o'er the sky his gloomy wing.

Fast clinging to the vines which grew

Upon the pvecipice, he threw

Himself from rock to rock, until

He reached the bottom, gazing still

Upon the creature, where it stood

Half hidden in the little wood.

But even as he gazed 'twas gone ;

And looking up he saw it on

The precipice's topmost rock,

Calmly gazing, as if to mock,

Upon the hunter far below ;

While he, with timid step and slow,

Climbed up the bank. But when

He reached the top he found again

That it had fled. He saw it now

Upon a lofty mountain's brow,

Far to the south. Swift as the gale,

He onw-ard sped o'er hill and dale.

Until he gained the mountain side.

Then bending low, so as to hide

Himself beneath its grassy bed.

He crept with soft and stealthy tread

Toward the lofty summit bare.

When near the top, he chose with care

A polished arrow straight and true,

And fixed it to his supple bow.

With quick'ning heart he slowly raised

His head above the grass. Amazed,

He looked upon the vacant height —

Tlie doe had vanished from his sight !

He looked toward the South again,

And saw it on a distant plain;

Again sped on — ag tin drew near.

And saw it vanish in the au\

And thus he followed on till night

Concealed the creature from his sight ;

When lying down ii])imi the ground

He fell into a sleep profound.

Next morn, refreshed with sweet repose,

At rosy dawn's a ipru eh he rose.

He saw, by the dim twilight gray.

The spirit-doe not far away,

And followed on. Six times the sun

Through his diurnal course had run ;

Six times on earth the stars and moon

Had smiled ; and still he wandered on :

Up many a mountain's craggy side ;

Through many a forest dark and wide ;

Across full many a broad deep stream.

Whose dark-blue waters the bright sunbeam

Could never kiss. Like the witch's light

Which often in the dark wet night.

We see beside the boggy stream.

Lighting the swamp with flick'ring gleam,

The spirit-doe still lured him on.

But when within his grasp— was gone.

The seventh morn, when he awoke,

He found him.self beneath an oak.

Whose spreading branches overhung

A stagnant stream which wound along

The valley, like a huge black snake.

And now his limbs began to ache

With pangs he never felt before.

And sharped-tooth hunger pinched him sore.

For six long days his only food

Had been the wild fruits ot the wood,

Which he had gathered by the way.

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Backwoods Poems.

For he had never paused to slay The deer which gazed with wondering eye On him, as he was speeding by.

"While he was musing on his wo, He saw the little spirit-doe Standing upon a mound close by, Looking tow'rd him with pitying eye. With trembling hand, he seized his bow And fixed the shaft. The little doe Fled not. He aimed the deadly dart Toward the little creature's heart ; Drew back the string, the string let fly — And then there came a mournful cry. Like a murdered infant's dying wail Borne on the midnight's moaning gale ; And the spirit-doe dissolved away, Like the morning mist before the ray Of the rising sun. He turned and fled. While every hair upon his head Stood straight with wild affi'ight. The night Came on, ere he had ceased his flight. At last his limbs refused to bear Him farther, and he fainted near The bluff, where through the night he slept. At rosy dawn's approach he ci'ept Into a grove of little pines, Which, interwove with tangled vines, Concealed him from the intruder's sight. He saw the maid with footstep light Trip by ; and from his hiding place He stole to gaze upon her face, As wrapt in her elysian dream, She sat beside the little stream. His heart beat wild with sweet delight, As he gazed upon the vision bright ; And, O too soon ! his captive soul Submissive bowed to love's control. He saw the panther on the bluff Prepared to leap. It was enough- He sent the keen unerring dart Swift to the horrid monster's heart.

Long ere the youth had told his tale, The dark-browed Night had thrown her veil O'er slumbering Nature's face ; and soon From o'er the eastern hills, the moon With trembling ray shone through the wood Upon the spot where the lovers stood. And warned them that 'twas time to part. Young Toppasha, with swelling heart And mournful look, now gently prest Palila to his heaving breast, While she with blushing upturned face, Responded to his warm embrace.

A moment more he held her there.

As if his soul would quaff tore'er,

Th' intoxicating cup of bliss ;

Then, bending down, a long, sweet kiss

Upon her half-oped lips he sealed.

Rushed from her arms, and was concealed

In the forest's thick and gloomy shade,

Before the languid, weeping maid

Could realize that he was gone.

Or feel she was indeed alone.

III. Love is a wizard ; at his touch

The strong man's heart, though e'er so much

With pride enfrozen it may be.

Melts like the iceberg when the sea

Blushes beneath the ardent kiss

Of the summer's sun. New founts of bliss,

Beneath his soft yet stem control,

Are opened to the thirsty soul.

The gloom upon the pensive brow

Is chased away ; while eyes that glow

And spai'kle with mischievous mirth,

Are made to droop all sad to earth.

A change came o'er the chieftain's child :

No more she roamed in the forest wild

With lightsome step and sunny face,

Or merrily danced with childish grace

Before her father's lodge. A shade

Of sadness, like soft twilight, played

Upon her features ; and a beam

Of pensive light, like the last gleam

Of the setting sun, shone in her soft

And languid eyes. She wandered oft

To the dear-loved spot beside the stream.

Where first her soul was taught the dream

Of love. Here she would sit alone

And muse upon the loved one ;

Recall each gentle word which fell

Upon her soul like the magic spell

Which moonlight weaves around the grove—

And each sweet, melting glance of love.

Again she felt his burning kiss

Upon her lips ; and O, the bliss

E'en in the thought ! again was prest

With rapture to his manly breast.

The gentle, brown-haired Autumn drew Her flowing robe of rainbow hue Closely around her shivering form. And, mounted on the swift-winged storm, Flew to the South. While Nature slept, Old Winter from his cavern crept

I

Backwoods Poems.

Witli stealthy tread : and his icy breath Spread o'er the wood the chill of death. The withered leaves, \vith rustling sound, Fell slow and mournful to the ground ; And the tall trees sighed with deep despair, To see their limbs thus stripped and bare. The leprous frost, at midnight hour. Crept to the bed of the humble flower; Next morn it lay upon its bed All pale and cold — the flower was dead ! Palila, too, the young and fair. Seemed drooping 'neath the wintry air. As if the frost which nipped the flower. Had, in the self-same evil hour. Nipped every bud of youthful hope, That in her heart began to ope. Her lovely cheek grew thin and pale. Like a tree in summer which the gale Has thrown to earth ; her step grew slow. Like the mournful tread of the timid doe That's lost her mate ; and eyes once bright Lost all the splendor of their light.

Old Gray Hawk saw his lovely flower Repining — withering, every hour, And blamed his selfishness and pride. That he had kept her by his side, While she was pining for the love Of some twin heart, like mateless dove. Or flow'r shut out from the evening dew By the branches of the spreading yew.

Young White Wolf— chieftain of a band—

Whose home was in the lovely land

Of the long-leaved pine, had often sought

Pallia's hand. His sire liad fought

By Gray Hawk's side in days gone by.

And the son had proved a true ally.

So Gray Hawk sent old S [jotted Deer,

His faithful messenger, to bear

To Wliite Wolf in his distant home,

The pleasing news, that he might come.

When spring's soft breeze had oped the flow'rs

In nature's lovely, verdant bow'rs.

And take his bride, the chieftain's child,

Unto his home in the forest wild.