THE EAGLE'S NEST.
Grace Adam was a farmer's daughter,
Her youth in the far west was spent,
Where Mississippi's mighty water
Rolls like a flood that will have vent.
She was a blooming country maiden,
Like those one sees in market towns,
With egg and butter baskets laden,
Dressed in their smartest hats and gowns.
In household work and dairy labours
Her time passed pleasantly away,
A pattern she to all the neighbours,
Healthy and cheerful as the day.
Grace Adam was a farmer's daughter,—
Some share of beauty she could boast,
And lovers, near and far off, sought her,
Each striving who could flatter most.
From 'mong them all her heart selected
One gentle youth who seemed sincere,
He was by every one respected,
And more it needs not saying here.
Within an outfield stood an only
Old beech-tree, lightning-smote, and dead,—
Its branches bare, and bleached, and lonely,
An eagle built its nest amid.
Forsook the mountain's summit hoary,
The beetling cliff above the sea,
Sought not the forests of Missouri,
But sheltered on this shattered tree.
And oft to see this noble creature,
Many there came from parts thereby,
Training its young, as is its nature,
To spread their wings and upward fly.
Among the rest a student, rambling
In woods and meadows, also came,
In search of useful knowledge scrambling,
Wherever he could find the same.
Grace Adam was a farmer's daughter,—
Her father had approved her choice;
For duty and her feelings taught her
'Twere best to have her parents' voice.
Oft as the summer sunset glowing
Came down in splendour o'er the west,
The lovers forth together going,
Would wander to the eagle's nest.
And there in courtship sweet and prudent
The happy hours fast slipt away;—
And often there, too, came the student,
To watch the birds at close of day.
And so they soon became acquainted,
He knew they were betrothed before;
But while their future bliss they painted,
His object still was to explore.
The marriage-day, longed for yet dreaded
By maidens fair, at last came round,
Grace Adam and her love were wedded,
With hope and every blessing crowned.
Their home was in a distant city
Far, far from where her youth was spent,
Where Mississippi's water mighty
Pours like a flood that will have vent.
And never more the lordly river,
Or its green banks, was Grace to see,
The dear-loved farm, no more, and never
The lonely shattered eagle's tree.
New duties claimed now her attention,
New feelings rose at name of wife,
And as time passed, she ceased to mention
The loved scenes of her early life.
Some years had gone, and she could gather
Her children round about her knee,—
Long since in churchyard lay her father,
And fallen was the eagle's tree.
And now in course of worldly changes
Another town their home became;
For business oft-times turns the hinges
Of man's condition and his aim.
And there they settled, growing older,
But Grace aright years passing read;
For the grey hairs appearing told her
Time left its shadow on her head.
Years twenty since the farmer's daughter
Left the scenes where her youth was spent,
Where Mississippi's mighty water
Rolls like a flood that will have vent.
Within that town broke out a fever,
Smiting alike the rich and poor;
'Twas typhus, grim Death's surest lever
To turn the churchyards o'er and o'er.
Many, o'erborne with grief and watching
At couch of those oppressed with pains,
A hurried hour of slumber snatching,
Woke with the fever in their veins.
Spared not the children or the father,
Passed not the anxious mother by,
In one swift grave the parents gather
Their offspring with them as they lie.
Lamented many a one his dearest
Borne to the house whence no retrace,
Mourned high and low for friends the nearest
Soon carried to their resting place.
A time of gloom, and doubt, and terror,
A time of sorrow and dismay;
The breath of death upon life's mirror
All ghastly and infectious lay.
A time of judgment, when God's dealings
Make the most careless cry to Him,—
A time to try the human feelings,—
When even Hope grows faint and dim.
Just at the last, when near expending
Its baleful force ere sped away,
Grace caught the fever while attending
A smitten neighbour as she lay.
Grief in the house but late so cheerful,
Pain on the heart but late so light,
Her husband and her children tearful
Watched o'er her sickbed day and night.
Beat low the pulse with languid movement,
And stopped the functions of the brain,
No sign her eye gave of improvement
As day and night return again.
Hastened the Doctor, if yet human
Aid might avail to save her life,
He saw and knew the suffering woman,
Although not as a wedded wife.
Years twenty since the farmer's daughter
Had met the student at the tree,
Where Mississippi's mighty water
Rolls like a full flood to the sea.
Bent near the Doctor then, and laid he
His hand upon her wasted breast,
And with low cheerful whisper said he
No more words than "the eagle's nest!"
The change was sudden and amazing,—
Opened her eyes and closed again,
And like the keel of vessel grazing
The ground, grated her teeth in twain.
Gasped a long breath, as if a struggle
Were going on, as night with morn,
No sound made but a low faint guggle,
Like cry of infant newly born.
A smile passed o'er her features sunken,
Grasped she the hand beside her then,
Remembrance, just as one half-drunken,
Strove to retrace its course again.
Ah! then came back the well-known faces
Of her young days upon her mind,
The scenes of long ago, in traces
All clear and full and well defined.
She saw her father as he taught her
Her youthful lessons at his knee,
Where Mississippi's mighty water
Rolls like a full flood to the sea.
She saw her mother too beside her
Long, long since taken to her rest,
And then, as opened Memory wider,
She stood beneath the eagle's nest,
With him she loved, in courtship prudent,
And of love's sweetest cup she drank,
She saw again the youthful student,—
All that came after was a blank.
Thus ever Memory touched can bring time,
With its past feelings into light,
And thus the sweet joys of her spring-time
Came rushing thickly on her sight.
Thus, too, doth roused Imagination
Vibrate the tender chords that bind
The wide links of Association
Within the chambers of the mind.
Then turned the fever, as the meeting
Of the free air upon her brain,
Her pulse resumed a quickened beating,
Revolved the wheels of life again.
And day by day she gained new strength then
Beneath the Doctor's care and skill,
Able to quit her bed at length then,
'Twas this she loved to talk of still,
That when Death's dart did o'er her hover,
And she could find no sleep or rest,
'Twas this that made her to recover,
The simple words, "the eagle's nest!" [(9)]