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rom thy onward course. Poised in my light canoe, I watch the struggle. Fierce but short it is, for thou triumphest, and thy conquered rival is compelled to pay his golden tribute to thy flood that rolls majestically onward! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Upon thy victorious wave I am borne still southward. I behold huge green mounds--the sole monuments of an ancient people--who once trod thy shores. Near at hand I look upon the dwellings of a far different race. I behold tall spires soaring to the sky; domes, and cupolas glittering in the sun; palaces standing upon thy banks, and palaces floating upon thy wave. I behold a great city--a metropolis! I linger not here. I long for the sunny South; and trusting myself once more to thy current I glide onward. I pass the sea-like estuary of the Ohio, and the embouchure of another of thy mightiest tributaries, the famed river of the plains. How changed the aspect of thy shores! I no longer look upon bold bluffs and beetling cliffs. Thou hast broken from the hills that enchained thee, and now rollest far and free, cleaving a wide way through thine own alluvion. Thy very banks are the creation of thine own fancy--the slime thou hast flung from thee in thy moments of wanton play--and thou canst break through their barriers at will. Forests again fringe thee-- forests of giant trees--the spreading _platanus_, the tall tulip-tree, and the yellow-green cotton-wood rising in terraced groves from the margin of thy waters. Forests stand upon thy banks, and the wreck of forests is borne upon thy bubbling bosom! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I pass thy last great affluent, whose crimson flood just tinges the hue of thy waters. Down thy delta I glide, amid scenes rendered classic by the sufferings of De Soto--by the adventurous daring of Iberville and La Salle. And here my soul reaches the acme of its admiration. Dead to beauty must be heart and eye that could behold thee here, in this thy southern land, without a thrill of sublimest emotion! I gaze upon lovely landscapes ever changing, like scenes of enchantment, or the pictures of a panorama. They are the loveliest upon earth--for where are views to compare with thine? Not upon the Rhine, with its castled rocks--not upon the shores of that ancient inland sea--not among the Isles of the Ind. No. In no part of the world ar
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