Book 10 — TO THE MOUNTAINS OF WILLIAMSTOWN

ON THE INTRODUCTION OF THE NEW RAILROAD

ANON.

Ye guardian mountains of the western world, Enthroned like monarchs of primeval days! Ye that hold lofty converse with the stars, And bind your shaggy brows with clustering clouds As if with wreaths of laurel! ye that count Your years by thousands, and your bosoms robe With all the pageantry of Autumn's gold, And lull your sleep of ages with the wild And murmurous drone of woodland waterfalls, And multitudinous song of windy groves!

What spell hath bound ye now? what lethargy O'ercomes your ancient power? that undisturbed Ye slumber on, as if ye heeded not The piercing shriek from yonder fuming car, Which saith that even here presumptuous man Has dared intrude upon the green domain, Which ye inherited when Time was born. Awake! arise! are ye forever dumb? Let Greylock, most majestic of your band, Stand up and shout aloud to Audubon, Until from peak to peak the sound rolls round, Until yon mountain that o'erlooks the west Takes up the cry, of vengeance upon him Whose strange devices break your long repose.

In vain! ye are indeed forever dumb, Obedient to the will of Destiny, Who sits enthroned among the stars of heaven, And unto man's inquiring vision points Toward the westering sun forevermore. Such is the law that rules the universe;— Planets and systems, e'en the sun himself, Around one common point progressive move. And thus a few millenniums more shall man Proclaim the march of mind, and when ye pass Into oblivion with your weight of years, When galaxies and suns are quenched in gloom, Th' unshackled soul of man, itself a star Lit by the smile of God, shall wing through space, The destined heir to immortality.

Quarterly, 1859.