Where Hudson's Wave

by George Pope Morris

Where hudson’s wave o’er silvery sands   Winds through the hills afar, Old Cronest like a monarch stands,   Crowned with a single star! And there, amid the billowy swells   Of rock-ribbed, cloud-capped earth, My fair and gentle Ida dwells,   A nymph of mountain-birth. The snow-flake that the cliff receives,   The diamonds of the showers, Spring’s tender blossoms, buds, and leaves,   The sisterhood of flowers, Morn’s early beam, eve’s balmy breeze,   Her purity define; Yet Ida’s dearer far than these   To this fond breast of mine. My heart is on the hills. The shades   Of night are on my brow: Ye pleasant haunts and quiet glades,   My soul is with you now! I bless the star-crowned highlands where   My Ida’s footsteps roam: O for a falcon’s wing to bear   Me onward to my home!

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