THE PUMPKIN. 45 And longed for the storm-cloud, and listened in vain For the rush of the whirlwind and red fire-rain. On the banks of the Xenil the dark Spanish maiden Comes up with the fruit of the tangled vine laden; And the Creole of Cuba laughs out to behold Through orange-leaves shining the broad spheres of gold; Yet with dearer delight from his home in the North, On the fields of his harvest the Yankee looks forth, Where crook-necks are coiling and yellow fruit shines, And the sun of September melts down on his vines. Ah!-on Thanksgiving Day, when from East and from West, From North and from South come the pilgrim and guest, When the gray-haired New Englander sees round his board The old broken links of affection restored, When the care-wearied man seeks his mother once more, And the worn matron smiles where the girl smiled before, What moistens the lip and what brightens the eye? What calls back the past, like the rich Pumpkin pie ? Oh!--fruit loved of boyhood!-the old days recalling, When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling! When wild, ugly faces we carved in its skin, Glaring out through the dark with a candle within When we laughed round the corn-heap, with hearts all in tune, Our chair a broad pumpkin-our lantern the moon, Telling tales of the fairy who travelled like steam, In a pumpkin-shell coach, with two rats for her team! Then thanks for thy present!-none sweeter or better F'er smoked from an oven or circled a platter! Fairer hands never wrought at a pastry more finc, Brighter eyes never watched o'er its baking than thine! And the prayer, which my mouth is too full to express, Swells my heart that thy shadow may never be less That the days of thy lot may be lengthened below, And the fame of thy worth like a pumpkin-vine grow, And thy life be as sweet, and its last sunset sky Golden-tinted and fair as thy own Pumpkin Pie ! EXTRACT FROM "A NEW ENGLAND LEGEND." How has New England's romance fled, Waking the veriest urchin's scorning !-- At moonrise by his holy oak! Startling the traveller, late and lone; EXTRACT. As, on some night of starless weather, Each sitting on his own head-stone ! No longer rings with midnight revel The cautious good-man nails no more Until, with heated needle burned, 47 Along the charmed Ausonian shore ! Sleeps calmly where the living laid her; Hath found no gray and skilled invader : HAMPTON BEACH. THE sunlight glitters keen and bright, Lies stretching to my dazzled sight Beyond the dark pine bluffs and wastes of sandy gray. The tremulous shadow of the Sea! Against its ground Of silvery light, rock, hill, and tree, Still as a picture, clear and free, With varying outline mark the coast for miles around. On-on HAMPTON BEACH. -on-we tread with loose-flung rein 49 Through dark-green fields and blossoming grain, Ha! like a kind hand on my brow Cooling its dull and feverish glow, Now rest we, where this grassy mound In the great waters, which have bound With long and tangled moss, and weeds with cool spray wet. Good-bye to Pain and Care! I take Here where these sunny waters break, I draw a freer breath-I seem Like all I see Waves in the sun-the white-winged gleam And far-off sails which fit before the South wind free. So when Time's veil shall fall asunder, No fearful change, nor sudden wonder, But with the upward rise, and with the vastness |