A Leaf from the Old Forest

by John D. Cossar

For the panting prey which cometh
To allay its thirsty feelings
At their sweet and cooling waters.
There the owl at midnight whoopeth,
And the lions roar majestic,
And the many prowling wild brutes
Raise such divers sounds and noises,
That it gives a fearful grandeur
To the scene at hours of midnight.
To the rocky hills and mountains
We will next direct our journey,
Which with heathy robes are mantled,
And whose heads are ever wearing
Caps of snow of many ages.
These are in adorning climates,
Where the seasons bring their changes,
Where comes hoary-headed white frost,
And the plumy flakes of white snow,
Showered around in bounty’s largess,
Lend the plains a pure white carpet,
And the hills a dazzling wrapper,
Which they don in princely grandeur,
Till the herald voice resoundeth
O’er the mountains, hills, and valleys,
From the orient regions coming:
“Haste ye, Winter, your departure,

And remove those chill adornments,
Fold those dreary garments quickly,
And begone unto your own land;
For our fairy queen approacheth,
Comes our gentle queen to claim her
Now the rule of this dominion.
Hark how sweet the songs she bringeth!
We shall give her welcome greetings.”
Now the peaceful vales and pastures
All in beauty spread before us;
And the fragrant kine are grazing,
And the merry lambs run frisking
Mid the perfumes of the meadow,
From the odors of the Spring flowers;
And the Cashet dove is cooing
Love songs to its cherished mate;
And the shepherd boy is wooing
By the rustic cottage gate.
There the swains, in nature’s freedom,
Pour their mirth around profusely;
And the agéd people fondly
See the mirth they once partook of.
Now, from scenes so sweet and pleasant,
We must turn and journey onward;
From the mountains’ rugged grandeur,
Where the chamois and the wild deer

Roam in constant freedom over;
Where the eagle soaring flyeth,
Scouting with a keen beholding;
And with thunders rolling by us,
And with lightnings trouling round us,
Seek for other scenes and fancies.
Thence away unto the regions,
Gliding o’er the restless billows,
Through the howling storms and tempests,
Unto scenes of snow and icelands,
Where the blocks of ice are dancing
Like huge hills amid the billows,
And the snows are ever sleeping,
And the frosts are ever biting;
Where the bears go prowling wildly,
Creeping from their icy caverns.
There we find a nature also,
And a people who enjoy it.
But that we have made a survey
Rudely of the different regions,
And in visits on our journey
Have discerned the varying customs
Of the many different people
Who take glory in their white skins,
Or of others who, alikewise,
Build their pride in skins of copper;

Let us notice more minutely
Scenes, and wonders, and behaviours
On this kingdom of Nimæra,
As they often come before us.
So the little stream we follow,
Rising from a rocky mountain,
See it moving onward, onward,
Gathering force, and power, and beauty,
Till it gets a rolling river,
Sweeping onward to the ocean,
Watering many pleasant valleys,
Cheering many a thirsty traveller.
This is like a man who riseth
From a humble life and hidden
Unto power, and wealth, and wisdom,
Gaining large and goodly influence,
Giving, as he upward rises,
Courage unto needy pilgrims,
Help unto the homeless wanderer.
These are of Nimæra’s kingdom.
But, as we have traced the river
From its wild and rustic birthplace,
Let us see the scenes beside it;
And in wonder deep we ponder
How all these things were created,
And of the unbounded knowledge

Of the Being great who made them.
First we pass the lake which spreadeth
Wide its bosom to the sunshine,
Or unto the winds and tempests;
By its mountain bulwarks guarded,
Which for everlasting passion
Keep the couch whereon it sleepeth.
Then the sweet and happy village,
Standing in the peaceful valley,
Fraught of fondest recollections
Of the happy days of childhood
Unto many far departed,
Toiling through the world’s courses.
There is simple joy and humble,
And in unity the daytime
And the tranquil of the night time
Keep harmonious pleasures by it.
Stand around it woods and pastures,
Full of song, and peace, and plenty;
O’er them softest winds are wafted,
Sporting gently with the leaflets,
Which unite in murmurs often,
Seeming to reproach them thuswise:
“Why came ye so near our pillows,
To disturb the peaceful order
Of our slumbers sweet and soothing?”

In the east behold the gay orb
Leave its cradle for rejoicing
O’er its course in might and grandeur.
On the west behold the pillow
Where it lieth down to slumber.
Next, as we go wandering onward
From these rustic scenes and pleasing,
Comes the city, overflowing
With a motley population.
There oft pestilence and sickness
Pay each other salutation,
And unite their fatal efforts
To destroy in deadly numbers,
Raging through the streets in darkness,
And disguiséd in the daytime
To betray the one who thinks not
That his doom is yet so near him.
There the harlot of the midnight
Holdeth forth her deadly charmings
To entice the blind and simple.
He is simple who doth lend her
Such a glance that lusts go after;
He defiléd that partaketh
Of the couch she sheweth to him.
Seek of wisdom, and refrain thee
From the path whereon she lurketh;

She will draw thy vigor from thee,
And thy spirit to destruction.
There is sin, in all its blackness,
Spreading wide its vile infection.
Like unto a thief it stealeth
Through the crowded lanes and alleys;
And appeareth, robed more gaily,
Yet as hideous in its purpose,
In the dwellings of the lofty,
On their walks and promenadings.
Here the young are led from virtue
Unto every ill devising;
As the lad who, in his anger,
Curseth a reproving parent
Daily wanders unto evil,
Till his hand is raised to murder,
Reeking in a brother’s life-blood.
Then of fear he is betaken,
And a bloody spirit haunts him,
Till his days are sadly ended
Hanging on the loathsome gallows.
Here is revel mirth and gladness,
And gay scenes, where flock the simple.
They are simple who, alluréd,
Follow Pleasure’s fleeting phantom.
They are led deluded onward,

Till it is a curse unto them,
And they have not power to leave it.
They are led to low desires,
Craving unto lust and evil;
As the drunkard and profaner,
As the vile and the licentious
Glory in plebian language,
With their sharp tongues dipt in slander,
And their words in curses flowing,
Think not of their awful ending
Till destruction comes upon them.
Thus the gorgeous devil hieth
To the grand and gay assemblies,
And attend him many pages
In their many-colored costumes;
They are eager at enlisting,—
Luring numbers to his bondage.
Have you taken his temptation?
Are you too an eager worker
To allure the simple to him?
Say how many souls are writhing
In a long and sad destruction,
Who pursued a better pathway
Till you lured them to forego it.
But I must not wander thuswise.
We are now in the great city,

Where the lofty and the lowly,
And the sumptuous and the starving,
Are within each other’s shadows.
There the merchant and the trader
Tendeth each his own transactions;
Some deal fairly, some deal falsely.
And the judges sit dispensing
Seeming justice to the people;
But their judgments are corrupted,
And they rule in wrong or favor.
There is constant din and bustle;
And the weary shopman standeth
Day to day in close confinement;
And the pallid seamstress sitteth
For a long and tedious twelve hours
Stitching, while her life is ebbing
In a rapid current from her.
Now awhile we see the playhouse,
And the giddy hall of music,
And the scenes exposéd therein,
Oft immodest and immoral.
Next the nest of thieves and robbers,
With their heaps of spoil and plunder,
And their hidden laws and customs.
Then we seek the house of prayer,
Which is only weekly opened,

Or which day to day inviteth
Weary souls into its shadow,
There to hold a sweet communion
With the God who made and keeps them,
Or the silent hours of midnight
To employ in watchful prayer.
As we come unto His presence
Let us bow in holy reverence,
As is ever due and fitting,
To the God who there descendeth.
Now behold the people gathered;
They are all as one together,
But their thoughts are widely parted.
Some are earnest, true, and godly,
Others wicked and regardless;
Some are semi-sanctimonious,
(Most obnoxious of deceivers.)
Let us see their inward purpose.
One doth offer true oblation—
Praise and worship, as he seemeth;
While the thoughts of one near by him
Are among the world’s pleasures;
And another has come hither
To give homage, style, and fashion;
And another thinks of feasting
(His great god is in his belly.)