THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 BEfW ; , -_ , 
 
 BOU 
 
 t4O PS, 
 
 LONQ BfACa.
 
 (GOLD MEDAL PRIZE POEM.) 
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEflK 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 BERNARD L. RICE, 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM NATURE. 
 
 COPYRIGHTED, JUNE, 1898. 
 
 1898. 
 
 The Christian Endeavor Printing Co. Engravings by Reistle. 
 Denver , Colo.
 
 TO MY^MOTHER.
 
 PS 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Principally for my own enjoyment these 
 verses have been written. However the poem 
 which occupies the larger part of this thin vol 
 ume was written at the solicitation of friends 
 in the early summer of 1896. The shorter 
 pieces culled from a collection of no great size 
 are simply an effort at expressing in words the 
 little gushes of feeling that well up to the sur 
 face at odd times and in H variety of circum 
 stances. In handing the book to these friends 
 who have given such kindly advice and en 
 couragement I am making a venture, the out 
 come of which the future only can prove. Yet 
 hope whispers me onward, thinking that per 
 chance some one from the many may find a 
 verse, a line between the covers wherein is con 
 tained a note of comfort, a ray of joy. 
 
 A word concerning the illustrations inter 
 spersed through the pages: They are taken for 
 the most part from the photograhic collection 
 of Mr. F. P. Stevens of Colorado Springs, and 
 they are guaranteed to be genuine. Through 
 them a clearer idea of the beauty and sublim- 
 
 762979
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 ity of this handiwork of nature may be gained. 
 Yet at best a photograph as well as a poem is a 
 very inadequate representation of the reality 
 which charms the eye and exalts the soul. In 
 combination it is hoped the camera and the 
 pen, though not those of a master, may truth 
 fully portray to the reader the thoughts stirred 
 in the mind of the writer. 
 
 B. L. R.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 POETRY. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The View from Pike's Peak 9 
 
 The Lake 51 
 
 An Awakened Remembrance 53 
 
 My Lady Maraposa 55 
 
 A Faded Blossom 57 
 
 The Friendship of Books 60 
 
 At Close of Day 63 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " the King of Day upriseth 
 
 In his glory from his chambers;" 2 
 
 "To the westward all is mountains," 15 
 
 "Just above the Sacred Mountain," 16 
 
 "Nestled down within a valley, 
 
 Lies a busy youthful city." 20 
 
 "Fairest city of a nation 
 
 Is this Colorado hamlet." 23 
 
 "Set apart for Learning's temple," 24 
 
 " a group of pillars 
 
 Worn and old " . 27
 
 VIII CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 where the water, 
 
 Gurgles forth from Earth's great bosom," . 31 
 "There a cataract goes leaping. 
 
 Plunging o'er the rocky ledges." 32 
 
 "Cheyenne Mountain clothed in beauty,". . 35 
 "Somewhere on its lonely bosom 
 
 Lies a grave -" 39 
 
 "A lone island in an ocean 
 
 Boundless as the great Pacific!" 40 
 
 "Beautious Queen of Western Cities." .... 44
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Morning dawns upon the mountain; 
 Slow, the sullen brooding night-time 
 Skulks away before the footstep 
 Of the mellow-hearted morning. 
 From yon granite cleft, the rock squirrel 
 Rises up to greet his coming 
 With his call so shrill and peevish : 
 And the white-quail just awakened 
 From her nest all rock encircled 
 Trims her plumage to make ready 
 For the first glimpse of the daybeam 
 That shall glance across the prairie. 
 
 Dimly outlined in the distance 
 
 Stretch great plains and hills and valleys; 
 
 Hardly can the eye distinguish 
 
 'Twixt the paler blue of heaven
 
 10 THE VIEW FROM PIKfi's PEAK. 
 
 And the darker blue beneath it: 
 But look yonder o'er the prairie, 
 On beyond the waving grasses. 
 Where the earth and sky commingle. - 
 See! the blue is tinged with golden. 
 ( )ne by one, with noiseless footstep, 
 Fleet the shining hosts of heaven, 
 And beneath, the rolling prairie 
 Seems to heave its mighty bosom; 
 For the King of Day upriseth 
 In his glory from his chamber: 
 And the prairie's bosom trembles 
 'Neath the splendor of the Monarch. 
 Now unto his throne of jasper, 
 Form majestic, he ascendeth; 
 And his robes all decked with jewels. 
 Gems of ruby, gems of diamond, 
 Set the world ablaze resplendent: 
 From the foldings of his garments 
 Streams of gold and floods of silver 
 Spread abroad o'er sky and prairie: 
 And its breast no longer trembles 
 In the beauty of the morning.
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 11 
 
 From the distance comes the glitter 
 Of great cities in the sunshine; 
 Rivers' breasts reflect the radiance, 
 As they hurry on their journey 
 Toward the vast and distant ocean; 
 And the breeze of morn comes floating. 
 Gently floating o'er the prairie, 
 Sending ripples through the grasses. 
 And the flow'rets make obeisance 
 To some unseen elf of morning: 
 Thus the fancy decks the prairie. 
 
 Now the morning sun ascending 
 
 Clothes in gold the distant summits 
 
 On the southward, fills with glory 
 
 Many a rock-bound, snow-bound fastness; 
 
 But the lowly vales beneath them, 
 
 Lying in the dark and shadow, 
 
 Only catch the light reflected 
 
 From the mountain's sunlit summit: 
 
 So 'mong men, the light celestial 
 
 Seems on few to shed its blessing. 
 
 Seems to fill them with its radiance,
 
 12 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Till they are no more like mortals, 
 But as they were born of heaven; 
 While the many blindly striving 
 Only linger in the shadow, 
 Only catch reflected sunbeams 
 From the higher loftier spirits. 
 But, as though the veil were rifted 
 'Twixt the lowly and the lofty, 
 Now the sunshine fills the valleys. 
 Seen before but indistinctly, 
 'Mid the plain, a winding river 
 Makes its way past farm and hamlet- 
 Silver thread, all interwoven 
 With the line of woods and meadows. 
 Near the stream a distant city 
 With its spires reflects the sunshine: 
 Tis Pueblo, busy, bustling, 
 Ringing, roaring, Western Pittsburg. 
 Up from many a busy foundry, 
 From the glowing, glaring furnace, 
 Rolls thick smoke in inky columns; 
 Upward floats it. soon to mingle 
 With the flying mists of heaven.
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE S PEAK. 
 
 And methinks I see the city 
 Thronging with a busy people, 
 Myriad souls, with many a purpose, 
 Steadfast each his aim pursuing; 
 Nay, not so; for there be many, 
 Wandering down life's solemn pathway, 
 Who have naught to stir them onward 
 Toward a noble, grand existance: 
 Such do often mingle with them. 
 
 Scattered far within the valley, 
 
 Like oases in the desert, 
 
 Other cities greet the vision; 
 
 And they too are thronged, I fancy, 
 
 With the same unresting mortals. 
 
 Like to slowly moving serpents, 
 
 Far away, yet seen distinctly, 
 
 On from city unto city, 
 
 O'er the plains, move throbbing engines; 
 
 With long lines of smoke above them, 
 
 And their freighted trains behind them, 
 
 Messengers that swiftly carry 
 
 Hearts that yearri for friends far distant,
 
 14 THE VIEW FROM PIKfi's PEAK. 
 
 Hearts that hope for all before them, 
 Bearing news that renders lighter 
 Foreheads that are bowed with waiting. 
 
 To the westward, all is mountains, 
 Vast and high, of boundless measure, 
 Heights ne'er trod by human footstep. 
 Where the snow the wild sheep tramples. 
 And the mountains' hoary temples 
 Seem to tell of baffled tempests 
 That have raged for countless ages 
 Round their mighty, stone-clad bosoms. 
 Seem to tell of their beginning 
 And of all the years that followed: 
 How the transient race of mortals 
 Seeing wondered at their grandeur. 
 When they first, in awe, beheld them. 
 And their souls were turned toward heaven. 
 Where the mountains hold communion 
 With their God, alone, in silence; 
 How they, from their lofty station 
 Looking downward, saw the progress 
 Made by tribes and clans and nations,
 
 fl 
 
 
 
 O M 
 
 E S
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 17 
 
 Watched the rise and fall of kingdoms, 
 Till at length, a fairer people 
 Came to dwell beneath their shelter, 
 And they too were lifted higher, 
 Nearer to the great Creator. 
 Just above the Western Mountains 
 Floats a cloud of fleecy vapor, 
 Whiter than the snow beneath it, 
 Onward toward the east; now resting 
 In some lone, sequestered valley, 
 Now ascending, now descending, 
 On across the rugged Rockies, 
 Growing larger as it riears us, 
 Like a flock of frightened lambkins, 
 That were playing in the sunshine, 
 And are fleeting o'er the meadows 
 From some unexpected comer. 
 
 Now the dancing vapors linger 
 Just above the Sacred Mountain, 
 Where the Holy Cross lies printed 
 In its massive, rocky bosom. 
 See, with folded hands they hover
 
 18 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 O'er the spot, in adoration, 
 
 And seem loath to wander farther 
 
 Through the mountains' endless pathways. 
 
 High into the scanty ether 
 Sangre de Christo lifts his summits; 
 Cloaked in snow, with forest girded, 
 As to shield them from the rigors 
 Of some piercing, Artie blizzard. 
 Soon above his crests uplifted, 
 Roll the clouds in foamy masses, 
 Slowly, slowly gath'ring round them, 
 Till they shut out all from vision, 
 All the western host of mountains. 
 
 Not alone upon the mountains 
 Do the mists their curtains lower, 
 For their creeping, crawling masses 
 Have o'erspread the lowly valleys. 
 On they float; and now they gather 
 Round old Pike's far-reaching footstool, 
 Slowly climbing onward, upward. 
 One by one the folds o'ershadow
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE ? S PEAK. 21 
 
 Verdant hillocks, that were mountains 
 Were^they not within the presence 
 Of the monarch of the mountains. 
 Low they bow; arid rock-ribbed canons 
 Echo back the praises sounded 
 By the suppliant to the master. 
 
 Nestled'down within a valley, 
 Walled by mountains gray and olden, 
 As some dwelling built of brambles, 
 Where the fledgling of the eagle 
 Rests beneath the jutting cliffside, 
 Lies a busy, youthful city. 
 And the mountains round about her 
 Are her vaults and treasure-houses. 
 Firmly lodged in deep concealment. 
 Where at first the Maker placed it. 
 Lie her treasures, gold and silver: 
 Treasures that in by-gone ages 
 Might have dazed a stately Roman, 
 Or have caused a thirsting Spaniard, 
 Wild at heart, to cross an ocean. 
 Down the slopes are lines of golden.
 
 22 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Blue and gray, that mark the places 
 Where are found the open doorways 
 Of these mighty treasure houses. 
 Swiftly to and from the city, 
 O'er their courses iron-sheeted, 
 Speed the trains, with treasure loaded 
 And with eager, happy people; 
 For the city that was conquered 
 By the flames and swept to earthward. 
 Rose majestic from the ashes, 
 With her boundries more extended. 
 So may we, though oft we stumble. 
 Falter not nor be discouraged, 
 But mount upward 011 the ruins 
 Of ourselves, and in the rising 
 Enter life more noble beings. 
 
 Now the mists beneath the mountain 
 Pitch their snow-white tents around it, 
 Clap their hands that they have captured 
 Such a monster of the prairie; 
 And the mountain lies encircled 
 In a surging sea of vapor:
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 25 
 
 And the sunlight seems more brilliant 
 Shining on the foamy whiteness. 
 Just below us, on the eastward, 
 Where the mountain's feet, entangled, 
 Lie enthralled by merry captors, 
 Rests a city in the sunshine; 
 Like a checker-board extended, 
 And the players are the foot-hills 
 And the dancing, snowy vapors; 
 Like a garden filled with blossoms, 
 That are laid in squares and patches, 
 With the walks and drives between them. 
 Fairest city of a nation 
 Is this Colorado hamlet. 
 Low it lies, where mountain breezes 
 Gently waft the incense downward 
 From the roses in the woodland, 
 And becomes a place of refuge 
 For frail mortals that must suffer. 
 Through the portals of a building 
 Set apart for Learning's temple, 
 Moves, with youthful step and lightly. 
 Day by day the busy student.
 
 26 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Ah, not all is binding labor, 
 For the heart celestial kindled 
 Throbs with joy of well-done duty, 
 Bounds and leaps with youthful fervor 
 At the victor's triumph sounded. 
 So he lives, as from his fingers 
 Fleet the winged days like phantoms, 
 Ever striving, upward mounting, 
 Dauntless heart and firm endeavor 
 Toward the glory crowned summit 
 That is called the Hill of Knowledge. 
 Here and there a spire uplifted 
 Over cot and over mansion 
 Tell of where the people gather, 
 Voicing praise unto their Maker; 
 Pointing upward, ever upward, 
 Showing them the way to heaven. 
 
 Farther up a group of pillars 
 Worn and old stand grimly waiting; 
 Solemly they gaze around them, 
 Waiting for some vanished being, 
 Some long-perished, past adorer.
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 29 
 
 Low to bow him down in worship. 
 
 Though their temple oft is entered. 
 
 Through its massive, rock-bound gateway, 
 
 By the curious race of mortals, 
 
 Still they stand unmoved, unaltered; 
 
 And the race that once adored them 
 
 Never murmers, never answers. 
 
 'Tis the place where busy Nature, 
 
 In her never ending labor 
 
 Shaping mountains and great rivers, 
 
 Stretching plains and carving valleys, 
 
 Has with master-finger, moulded 
 
 Monuments unto her glory. 
 
 Red and white, the massive sandstones. 
 
 Has she chiseled; grim and lofty 
 
 Has she raised them up toward heaven. 
 
 Manitou lies just above them. 
 Nearer to the "Grand Old Mountain;" 
 And its avenues and driveways, 
 Lines of white amid the verdure, 
 Are like footpaths in a garden. 
 And the aged cliffs about it
 
 30 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Are its walls moss-grown and crumbling. 
 There beneath the trees, in shadow, 
 Through the pleasant summer evenings, 
 Weary minds and tired bodies 
 Rest, and watch the sun descending 
 To its couch behind the mountain, 
 Rest until the darkness gathers. 
 Built on either side the city, 
 Just below and just above it, 
 Are two structures, where the water, 
 With its soft and roguish laughter, 
 Gurgles forth from Earth's great bosom, 
 Whispering secrets of its birthplace 
 To the parched throats that quaff it. 
 Far below in crystal chambers, 
 'Mid the corridors all golden, 
 Palaces whose light is darkness, 
 Is the birthplace of the waters, 
 Of the sparkling, healing waters. 
 
 Soon the cities in the sunshine, 
 That so long the ga/e enchanted, 
 Fade like phantoms from the vision;
 
 "There a cataract goes leaping. 
 Plunging o'erthe rocky ledges."
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 33 
 
 For the mists are mounting upward, 
 And beneath them lie the cities. 
 On they climb; and slyly creeping, 
 Toward the mountain ever nearer, 
 Now they slip into a canon. 
 There a cataract goes leaping, 
 Plunging o'er the rocky ledges, 
 Madly onward toward the ocean; 
 And a quiet lake lies sleeping 
 Just beyond it on the prairie, 
 Where the mists are creeping over, 
 Though it moves not, still contented 
 Low to lie and sparkle only. 
 Many are there who rush madly, 
 Like a leaping river, onward. 
 Ne'er content and never waiting, 
 Till they reach their high ambition, 
 Which is ever on before them. 
 Like a lake, whose placid bosom 
 Lies in silence and in shadow. 
 Rippling forth its scarce-heard music, 
 Others live in calm contentment, 
 Cheering onward fellow spirits;
 
 34 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 As the lake and rushing river 
 Each on earth is given a mission, 
 Each a hero, and each mission 
 Is as lofty as the other. 
 
 Cheyenne Mountain, clothed in beauty, 
 Lifts her form above the vapors; 
 Clad in green, with lighter patches 
 'Mid the darker, and a girdle 
 Red and white is wrapped about her; 
 And the green upon her garments 
 Is the waving woods? and grasses, 
 And her girdle is the sandstone, 
 Red and white, in masses round her. 
 
 Once 'mid Colorado's mountains, 
 Whore the Redman pitched his wigwam, 
 Where are found the poor and lowly, 
 Cheering all with deeds of mercy, 
 Making throb e'en savage bosoms, 
 Lived a Colorado poet. 
 Queen was she; the Redman loved her, 
 For she loved his native mountains.
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 37 
 
 With their forests and their meadows, 
 And she loved the Indian also, 
 Lived to aid him, point him upward. 
 She it was who told the story 
 Of the Indian maid Ramona, 
 Of true-hearted Alessandro, 
 In its accents wild, pathetic. 
 Well she loved her little homestead 
 In the Beautiest of Cities, 
 Well she loved its lanes and highways 
 'Neath the great trees' quiet shadow. 
 Better yet she loved the woodland, 
 Where the gentle waters murmur, 
 Where within its leafy bowers 
 Sings the wild bird to the blossoms, 
 Where the throbbing heart of nature 
 Beats accord with human bosoms, 
 And within the sacred portals 
 God and man commune together, 
 Heart with richest pleasure welling 
 Oft she lingered on the mountain; 
 In its solitudes and forests, 
 Lonely, she conversed with Nature;
 
 38 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 For she understood the language 
 
 Of the brook and of the pine-trees. 
 
 Somewhere on its lonely bosom 
 
 Lies a grave, where friends in sorrow 
 
 Linger oft, and cast upon it 
 
 Some bright stone in fond remembrance. 
 
 Higher now the clouds are lifted 
 Where Mount Baldy's barren forehead 
 Basks in sunshine. Grimly stands he 
 Ever loathing to look upward 
 Toward Old Pike's superior summit. 
 And disdaining to look downward 
 To the lowly mounds beneath him; 
 For his gray old head is jealous 
 That he cannot lift it higher, 
 To a station more exalted 
 In the clearer airs of heaven. 
 
 Far below is naught but vapor; 
 And the moTmta-rn7 fliat for ages 
 Has stood firm and never shaken, 
 Shrinks before a sullen ocean;
 
 "Somewhere on its lonely bosom 
 Lies a grave, "
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 41 
 
 And with all its up-heaved masses, 
 Stone on stone, it seems to falter, 
 And sink downward, slowly downward 
 As a monster ship that's broken 
 In a vast and hungry ocean. 
 Lone I stand; and round about me 
 There is nothing, save the sunshine 
 And the sky; for all beneath it, 
 Where were once the scenes familiar 
 That are wont to greet the vision, 
 Restless rolls the surging vapor. 
 A lone island in an ocean 
 Boundless as the great Pacific! 
 Billows whiter than the snowflakes 
 Stretch far outward in the distance 
 Till they meet the dim horizon. 
 Hark! Below the ocean's surface 
 Warning of some pending evil! 
 Mutterings low, deep sounding voices, 
 Like a multitude of cannon 
 Far away, o'er-awe the spirit. 
 While above is naught but sunshine, 
 From beneath there comes the bellow
 
 42 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Of the thunder in the valley. 
 
 There the storm in fury rages 
 
 And the lightnings play with thunder. 
 
 Now behold the mists have vanished; 
 Far and wide a richer glory 
 Shineth forth from hill and valley. 
 Robed in sunshine rests the prairie, 
 And above a deeper azure 
 Than e'er decked Italian heavens 
 Fills the sky: a fairy flaxfield, 
 Bluer than on earth may blossom. 
 Through the air a freshness wanders, 
 And new life seems born within it. 
 Now again the mountain's summit 
 Stands aloft, 'bove all the landscape, 
 And the rock-squirrel in the hollow 
 Pipes again his cheery greeting. 
 
 Wider grows the panorama. 
 Far away across the prairie 
 On the north a line of mountains 
 Raise their heads above the level.
 
 [
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 45 
 
 As the sky that rests upon them, 
 Blue they seem; for human vision 
 Is too feeble to distinguish 
 One bright hue from all the others; 
 And they too seem purer, clearer, 
 Since the storm has passed above them. 
 Lines of smoke float o'er the prairie, 
 Where the throbbing locomotives 
 Hurry on their busy errands. 
 Nearer to the distant mountains, 
 Whither point the creeping engines, 
 Lie beneath a smoky curtain 
 All the mighty architecture, 
 Streets and highways wide extended, 
 Beauteous Queen of Western Cities. 
 Queen indeed ! For she doth foster 
 All the arts that lift men higher. 
 In her walls the busy tradesman 
 Plies his task with firm endeavor; 
 Toiling workmen, often weary, 
 Day on day in shop and factory 
 Earn their bread; fair learning lingers, 
 With her wealth, in palace golden,
 
 4fo THE VIEW FROM PIKE S PEAK. 
 
 Dealing forth her priceless treasures, 
 Lifting up the minds of mortals; 
 And beneath the lofty turrets, 
 Raising high their pointing fingers, 
 Souls of men are taught and nourished, 
 Taught to love their fellow-beings, 
 And 'bove all to love the Maker 
 Of their mountains and their prairies. 
 Although dimly seen and distant, 
 Still my fancy sees the city, 
 Clear as if I were beside her, 
 With her marts and lofty buildings, 
 With her ringing shops and railways, 
 And the many souls that throng them; 
 And from mansion and from cottage, 
 From the street and from the foundry, 
 Upward like a cloud of incense, 
 Like the smoke above the city, 
 Rise the thoughts of men. I fancy 
 They ascend high into Heaven 
 To be judged of the Almighty. 
 Myriad thoughts of love and hatred, 
 Thoughts of good and thoughts of evil;
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 47 
 
 From glad hearts that bound with pleasure, 
 
 And from hearts which gnawing anguish 
 
 Has enthralled and bent to earthward; 
 
 Noble thoughts of souls whose purpose 
 
 Is no lower than the heavens, 
 
 And of other souls that grovel 
 
 In the dust that lies beneath them; 
 
 Beauteous thoughts, that in the future 
 
 Shall make glad the hearts of many, 
 
 Mighty thoughts, that swiftly flying 
 
 Shall go forth to move a Nation; 
 
 All in one unmeasured column 
 
 Roll they to the Pearly Portals, 
 
 To the very gates of Heaven, 
 
 From the Queen of Western Cities. 
 
 Darkness closes o'er the landscape. 
 As a rose that fades in summer, 
 As a thought that's lost forever, 
 So the day fades from my vision. 
 From the glowing western heavens, 
 Whence the sun in glory vanished, 
 Fades the red and blue and golden;
 
 48 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK 
 
 From each lofty mount and city, 
 From the boundless, endless prairie, 
 From each cataract and canon, 
 And each lake and rushing river, 
 Fades the day; and o'er the heavens, 
 Sparkling, twinkling, glow the diamonds, 
 That adorn the Home of Angels. 
 Now the mountains in the darkness, 
 Rise like spectors grim and ghastly, 
 And below, the black abysses 
 That go downward, never ending, 
 Make the soul in awe to shudder; 
 But as when a mortal spirit 
 Knoweth naught but night and sorrow, 
 Struggles on and sees no future, 
 When that life in gloom is darkest, 
 Light of dawning hope breaks on it; 
 So from out the darkened valleys, 
 Where the cities lie in slumber, 
 Comes the glimmer of the street-lamps. 
 
 Now, adieu ! Ye sparkling cities; 
 Mountains vast, adieu ! Ye prairies
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 49 
 
 That stretch outward in the darkness, 
 Till ye meet some lonely river, 
 Or some mountain in the distance; 
 All adieu ! A mind bewildered 
 Says: "Farewell, farewell, forever!"
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 THE LAKE. 
 
 The lake at evening lies asleep 
 Beneath the mountain's rugged steep, 
 Reflecting its golden, sun-lit brow, 
 For all is peace and quiet now; 
 All, save the night-lark's evening hymn 
 And the ripples on the water's brim, 
 Where speckled trout in sporting rise, 
 To catch the glistening water-flies. 
 
 I gaze on thee as did of yore 
 
 The Redman on thy beauteous shore, 
 
 Who swiftly in his light canoe 
 
 Had crossed thy placid sheet of blue, 
 
 And with his spoil slow plodded home 
 
 From haunts where wild deer love to roam,
 
 52 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Where squirrels climb the tall spruce-trees 
 And blue-bells nod to the evening breeze. 
 
 The suri is set. On comes the night, 
 As silently as dew-drops bright, 
 When summer's day is near its close, 
 Collect upon the blushing rose. 
 Above the gray old mountain peaks 
 The silver moon all trembling seeks 
 The azure sky, and in its light 
 The dark, cold crags are gleaming bright. 
 Across the bosom of the lake, 
 In quivering silence, moon-beams break, 
 And there within its liquid breast 
 I see the glorious mountain's crest, 
 And there, the rising moon's broad face 
 Amid the splashing trout, I trace. 
 
 Sweet, placid waters ! By thy side, 
 Men have lived and loved and died, 
 But thou, through rolling ages past, 
 Hast lived and shalt forever last..
 
 AN AWAKENED REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 O, hear the distant cowbells ring! 
 
 How 011 the air of night they fling 
 Their mellow notes so sweet and clear !. 
 
 Unto my soul they seem to bring 
 
 The melodies they used to sing 
 Into my childhood's listening ear. 
 
 Their music is as sweet as then; 
 
 When over hill and quiet glen 
 My tired feet had wandered long, 
 
 And, as the evening sun sank low, 
 
 Faint from the shadowed vale below 
 Came floating out that welcome song. 
 
 Then homeward bound, o'er waving green, 
 Past many a sweet-breathed flower unseen, 
 With lazy tread on marched the cows;
 
 54 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 And then rose many a simple rhyme, 
 For the old cowbells were keeping time 
 To the music of the dark pine boughs. 
 
 Long after the departing sun 
 
 Had sunk to rest and day was done, 
 
 When lights were out and all was still, 
 Then sweetly to my dreamy ear 
 The bells came tinkling soft and clear, 
 
 And lulled to dreamland 'gainst my will.
 
 MY LADY MARAPOSA. 
 
 My Lady, she's a bonny lass, 
 
 Sweet my Lady Maraposa ! 
 There's naught her beauty can surpass; 
 
 Sweet my Lady Maraposa ! 
 
 My Lady hath a nut-brown eye, 
 
 An eye with purest love o'erflowing: 
 
 'Twas through its crafty magic I 
 Lost all my heart, myself bestowing. 
 
 Her blossom cheek, 'tis lovlier far 
 Than any famed in olden story. 
 
 Oh, naught shall e'er its beauty mar, 
 Its dimpling smile, its quiet glory ! 
 
 My Lady's bower? Thrice blest abode ! 
 The palace wild of joy-crowned Nature;
 
 56 THE VIEW FROM PIKE ? S PEAK. 
 
 The prairie wide, the boundless wood: 
 
 Her friends ? Ah, many a happy creature. 
 
 The tall, lithe grasses nod their crests 
 And beck and smile and court'sy to her. 
 
 The sombre pines with heaving breasts 
 And many a sigh attempt to woo her. 
 
 But no; she thrusts them back in scorn, 
 'Tis so; for once she told me of it, 
 
 Just at the rosy blush of morn 
 
 When the earth was fair as the sky above it. 
 
 And many a secret pure and sweet 
 She told me on that lovely morning. 
 
 Of the elfen mosses at her feet, 
 
 Of the great white clouds the sky adorning. 
 
 Oh, what winning graces thine ! 
 
 Sweet my Lady Maraposa; 
 These are thine and thou art mine, 
 
 Mine is Lady Maraposa !
 
 A FADED BLOSSOM. 
 
 At last she fadeth from our sight 
 
 As dotli a happy dream 
 That slips away into the night, 
 
 When it doth brightest seem; 
 
 For He, who once on earth did dwell 
 And did the children bless, 
 
 Hath known each childish fancy well, 
 Each childish happiness. 
 
 And so He beckoned her above, 
 
 Unto his loving breast. 
 And in His mighty arms of love 
 
 Her spirit is at rest. 
 
 Full joyously she bade adieu 
 To all her merry, play,
 
 58 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 In garments of a lovlier hue 
 To dwell with Him alway; 
 
 To rove within the Portals Grand 
 And pluck the blossoms there, 
 
 Her hand within the Master's hand, 
 Her spirit in His care. 
 
 And why should we, her friends below, 
 
 With faltering voice and sad, 
 E'er murmer that He willed it so 
 
 And that her soul is glad? 
 
 Yet we cannot but miss her smile, 
 
 Her simple childish glee; 
 And so must mourn each flower the while, 
 
 The brook, the dusty bee 
 
 Tall columbines upon the hills 
 
 Bend low their purple heads, 
 And violets by silent rills 
 
 Weep in their mossy beds.
 
 THE VIEW FKOM PIKE'S PEAK. 59 
 
 Bright daisy eyes are bathed in dew, 
 
 And drooping flax-eyes weep; 
 Because two gems of brighter blue 
 
 Are closed for aye in sleep. 
 
 The robin's voice has ceased to sing 
 
 Sweet melodies at dawn, 
 At eve the night-lark folds her wing 
 
 And whispers, "She has gone." 
 
 Farewell, sweet child! Farewell to thee! 
 
 Art gone forevermore ? 
 Ah, no! Thy face again we'll see, 
 
 Just on the other shore.
 
 THE FRIENDSHIP OF BOOKS. 
 
 Silent friends are the books we read; 
 Yet they speak with note sublime, 
 Oft in the august voice of prose, 
 Oft in the sweeter tones of rhyme: 
 
 Silent ; yet as the firm set brow 
 
 Tolls where God-like passions roll. 
 
 As the quivering lips and the sparkling eye 
 
 Speak forth the music .of the soul 
 
 They are wizards gray with bosoms of love, 
 And they chant to the notes of the tremulous 
 
 lyre, 
 
 Or they spin their tales in a dreamy mood 
 By the flickering light of the evening fire. 
 
 They tell us strange legends and stories old 
 Of the far-off days of the long-ago,
 
 THE VIEW FROM PIKE ? S PEAK. 61 
 
 And we're sitting beside the tavern gray 
 While the village clock strikes long and slow. 
 And often they tell us a merrier tale 
 Of revels and glittering banquet halls, 
 Bright glimpses we catch of faces gay 
 And a mirthful laugh to the pleasure calls. 
 
 Grey seers of eld, from the distant past, 
 In measured tones their lore unfold; . 
 All hushed we hearken, and lo we hear 
 Their voices down the ages rolled. 
 
 Long years have flown, and the present grand 
 Is pictured aglow in printed hues; 
 On the spark electric, on conquered power. 
 Appalled by their grandeur we ponder and muse. 
 
 And the living books tell of living men 
 
 That speak with words of living fire ; 
 
 Their aims, how noble ! Their deeds, how 
 
 grand ! 
 High Heaven's pulsations their bosoms inspire.
 
 62 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PKAK. 
 
 Though often far distant from Nature's haunts 
 Her heart-soothing accents in fancy we hear 
 In the mellow voice of our time-worn friends, 
 Or her wilder echoes burst forth on the ear. 
 
 O, hark ! Tis the carol of summer bird 
 O'er-topping the song of the somber pines: 
 How sweet here to linger and dream for aye 
 By the herb-fringed brook where the warm sun 
 shines ! 
 
 There's a world of wealth in the printed page, 
 There are hoarded treasures, rich thoughts of 
 
 gold, 
 
 There are diamonds of wisdom from every age, 
 The well-gathered wages of labor untold.
 
 AT CLOSE OF DAY. 
 
 The warm south-west caresses soft my cheek 
 And faintly murmurs o'er the campus gray, 
 
 Rose-tinted clouds grow paler in the west, 
 The great trees w r ave, farewell, unto the day. 
 
 As twilight gathers round, the lights of eve 
 Beam forth from each low cot and farm-house 
 brown, 
 
 The watch-dog's plaintive bark re-echoes far, 
 A rattling wagon, from the neighboring town, 
 
 Rolls empty down the long and dusty road, 
 And, as the distant rumbling dies away, 
 
 In childish tones come snatches of a song, 
 Oft interrupted by the shout of play. 
 
 And now the voice grows clear and others join, 
 The play is hushed, and lightly borne along
 
 64 THE VIEW FROM PIKE'S PEAK. 
 
 Upon the bosom of the wind there comes 
 A fragment of the ''Swanee River" song. 
 
 That song, it brings the mem'ries that my 
 
 soul 
 Doth cherish most: the mountain homo, where 
 
 wild 
 
 Among the rocks the singing pine tree grew 
 And hummed to me that old song when a child. 
 
 I love the twilight gray, the wind, the song; 
 And must I leave it now? Oh, Must I go? 
 
 I fain would linger here and listen long 
 And dream for aye of joys I used to know. 
 
 But no ! To dull, relentless care a prey 
 And bound to bend o'er books with aching brain, 
 
 It is not mine such fancies to indulge, 
 Such thoughts must strive for liberty in vain.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-lGOm-9,'52(A3105)444 
 
 TKB LIBRARY 
 
 OF CAWFORNU 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 PS Rice - 
 
 3535 
 
 R3602v Pike's Peak. 
 
 FE3 1 1 1954 
 
 PS 
 
 3535 
 R3602v 
 
 001247571 1