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essly she lies With lithe, lax, folded hands and heavy eyes. Full well knows she how wide and fair extend Her groves bright-flowered, her tangled everglades, Majestic streams that indolently wend Through lush savanna or dense forest shades, Where the brown buzzard flies To broad bayou 'neath hazy-golden skies. Hers is the savage splendor of the swamp, With pomp of scarlet and of purple bloom, Where blow warm, furtive breezes faint and damp, Strange insects whir, and stalking bitterns boom-- Where from stale waters dead Oft looms the great-jawed alligator's head. Her wealth, her beauty, and the blight on these,-- Of all she is aware: luxuriant woods, Fresh, living, sunlit, in her dream she sees; And ever midst those verdant solitudes The soldier's wooden cross, O'ergrown by creeping tendrils and rank moss. Was her a dream of empire? was it sin? And is it well that all was borne in vain? She knows no more than one who slow doth win, After fierce fever, conscious life again, Too tired, too weak, too sad, By the new light to be stirred or glad. From rich sea-islands fringing her green shore, From broad plantations where swart freemen bend Bronzed backs in willing labor, from her store Of golden fruit, from stream, from town, ascend Life-currents of pure health: Her aims shall be subserved with boundless wealth. Yet now how listless and how still she lies, Like some half-savage, dusky Indian queen, Rocked in her hammock 'neath her native skies, With the pathetic, passive, broken mien Of one who, sorely proved, Great-souled, hath suffered much and much hath loved! But look! along the wide-branched, dewy glade Glimmers the dawn: the light palmetto-trees And cypresses reissue from the shade, And SHE hath wakened. Through clear air she sees The pledge, the brightening ray, And leaps from dreams to hail the coming day. SPRING STAR. I. Over the lamp-lit street, Trodden by hurrying feet, Where mostly pulse and beat Life's throbbing veins, See where the April star, Blue-bright as sapphires are, Hangs in deep heavens far,
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