Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
The Hudson
By Oliver Wendell Holmes (18091894)’T
Ere the curtain that covered life’s day-star was drawn;
The nurse told the tale when the shadows grew long,
And the mother’s soft lullaby breathed it in song.
She sang to her boy as he lay on her breast;
“Along its smooth margin thy fathers have played;
Beside its deep waters their ashes are laid.”
I saw the old rivers, renowned upon earth,
But fancy still painted that wide-flowing stream
With the many-hued pencil of infancy’s dream.
Where the grapes drink the moonlight and change it to wine;
I stood by the Avon, whose waves as they glide
Still whisper his glory who sleeps at their side.
That sing as they flow by my forefathers’ graves;
If manhood yet honors my cheek with a tear,
I care not who sees it,—no blush for it here!
I fling this loose blossom to float on its breast;
Nor let the dear love of its children grow cold,
Till the channel is dry where its waters have rolled!