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
|