, the whole compass
of American and English poetry may be challenged to furnish a more
exquisitely beautiful, a more touching and pathetic piece. Simple and
intimate to the last degree, yet coming from the heart, it goes to the
heart. Its lines are the last plaintive notes which wintry winds have
wakened from an Lolian harp, the strings of which rude hands have
sundered. Bring before your mind the picture of an amiable young man who
has wandered far from the paternal roof, is stricken by famine, and left
by his almost equally unhappy companions to perish among the terrible
snows of the great Sierra Nevada. He knows that his last, most solemn
hour is near. Reason still maintains her empire, and memory, faithful
to the last, performs her functions. On every side extends a boundless
waste of trackless snow. He reclines against a bank of it, to rise no
more, and busy memory brings before him a thousand images of past beauty
and pleasure, and of scenes he will never revisit. A mother's image
presents itself to his mind, tender recollections crowd upon his heart,
and the scenes of his boyhood and youth pass in review before him with
an unwonted vividness. The hymns of praise and thanksgiving that in
harmony swelled from the domestic circle around the family altar are
remembered, and soothe the sorrows of the dying man, and finally, just
before he expires, he writes:"

"Oh! after many roving years,
How sweet it is to come
Back to the dwelling-place of youth,
Our first and dearest home;
To turn away our wearied eyes
From proud ambition's towers,
And wander in those summer fields,
The scenes of boyhood's hours."

"But I am changed since last I gazed
Upon that tranquil scene,
And sat beneath the old witch elm
That shades the village green;
And watched my boat upon the brook
It was a regal galley
And sighed not for a joy on earth,
Beyond the happy valley."

"I wish I could once more recall
That bright and blissful joy,
And summon to my weary heart--
The feelings of a boy.
But now on scenes of past delight
I look, and feel no pleasure,
As misers on the bed of death
Gaze coldly on their treasure."

When Captain Tucker's relief party were going to Donner Lake, they left
a portion of their provisions in Summit Valley, tied up in a tree. They
had found these provisions difficult to carry, and besides, it