Classic Poem

Dear maid, with whom I, happy, wander'd back,
To roam o'er that now sacred, hallow'd ground,
Where Smith who trod old ocean's stormy track,
The noble state of chivalry did found.

Delightful hours thou mad'st them all, when I
Went musing there with thee, my spirit guide,
I saw the chieftain with his eagle eye,
And all his val'rous comrades, by his side.

I saw the doubtful scene; the hard assay,
The daring crown'd with victory at last;
I saw the ancient forest fall away,
I saw the little empire spreading fast.

And, on through other realms in charmed life,
I follow'd, by thy silver accents led,
So sweet, the summer air with bliss seem'd rife,
And harping angels hover'd o'er my head.

But yet--farewell! with sadden'd, sinking heart,
I turn from all the joys I late have known,
Where from the rushing crowd I oft shall start,
To find myself dejected and alone.

Yet, sometimes thou return, and with those eyes
Bright as an angel's, look on me again,
So I shall feel the wonted raptures rise,
And I shall lose the deaden'd sense of pain!