The lad, when age his locks of gold
Had changed to silver glory,
Told grandchildren, as I have told,
This western wildwood story.
Told how the fertile seeds had grown
To famous trees, and thriven;
And oft the Sacred Book was shown,
By that weird Pilgrim given.
Remember Johnny Appleseed,
All ye who love the apple;
He served his kind by Word and Deed,
In God’s grand greenwood chapel.
WENDING WESTWARD.
A new star rose in Freedom’s sky
A hundred years ago;
It gleamed on Labor’s wistful eye,
With bright magnetic glow;
Hope and Courage whispered, Go,
Ye who toil and ye who wait!
Open swings the People’s gate!
Beyond the mountains and under the skies
Of the Wonderful West your Canaan lies:—
On the banks of the Beautiful River,
By the shores of the Lakes of the North,
There fortune to each will deliver
His share of the teeming earth.
Jocund voices called from the dark
Hesperian solitude, saying, Hark!
Harken, ye people! come from the East,
Come from the marge of the ocean, come!
Here in the Wilderness spread a feast;
This is the poor man’s welcome home.
Hither with axe and plow;
(Carry the stripes and stars!)
Come with the faith and the vow
Of patriots wearing your scars
Like trophies, upon the victorious breast,—
Noblemen! wend to the West!
Load your rude wagon with your scanty goods
And drive to the plentiful woods;
Your wheels as they rumble shall scare
The fleet-footed deer from the road,
And waken the sulky brown bear
In his long unmolested abode;
The Redman shall gaze in dumb fear
At the wain of the strange pioneer,
His barbarous eyes vainly spell
The capital letters which tell
That the White-foot is bound
For the good hunting-ground
Where the buffaloes dwell.
To the Ohio Country, move on!
Bring your brain and your brawn
(Some books of the best,
Pack into the chest!)
Bring your wives and your sons,
Your maidens and lisping ones;
Your trust in God bring;
Choose a spot by a spring,
And build you a castle—a throne,
A palace of logs—but your own!
Happy the new-born child
Nursed in the greenwood wild;
Though his cradle be only a trough,
Account him well off;
For born to the purple is he,
The proud royal robe of the Free!
For the latest time is the best,
And the happiest place is the West,
Where man shall establish anew
Things excellent, beautiful, true!