Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
Tallulah
By J. M. Legaré (18231859)R
How Tallulah spoke to thee,
When thy little face with wonder
Lifted upwards, rocks asunder
Riven, shattered,
Black and battered,
Thou aloft didst see?
Did a giant shape appear.
All the waters leaping after
Hound-like, with their thunder-laughter
Shook the valley
Teocalli,
Hill-top bleak and bare.
Cloud-enwrapt his features were.
In his great calm eyes emotion
Glimmered none; and like an ocean
Billowy, tangled,
Foam bespangled,
Backward streamed his hair.
Nodded pines: the solid floor
Rocked and reeled beneath his treading,
Black on high a tempest spreading,
Pregnant, passive,
As with massive
Portal, closed the corridor.
In an agony of dread,
Sawest thou this form tremendous
Striding down the steep stupendous
With the torrent:
Night abhorrent
Closing overhead.
That thine own so loudly beat,
Comfort thee, I said, poor trembler:
Providence is no dissembler.
Higher power
Guards each flower
Blooming at thy feet.
Thereat thou didst lift thy face.
Blue and wide thy eyes resplendent
Turned upon the phantom pendent,
Whose huge shadow
Overshadowed
All the gloomy place.
Foam and fall and nodding pine,
Sank the phantom. Slantwise driven
Through the storm-cloud rent and riven,
Sunshine glittered,
And there twittered—
Birds in every vine.
Pealed a voice distinct and loud:
“Innocence and God-reliance
Set all evil at defiance.
Maiden, by these
(As by snow, trees)
Evil heads are bowed.”