Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882). Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry. 1880.
George NidiverElizabeth Hoar (18141878)
M
And bards have sung them well:
I of good George Nidiver
Now the tale will tell.
A hunter bold was he:
Keen his eye and sure his aim
As any you should see.
Followed him everywhere,
Eager to share the hunter’s joy,
The hunter’s meal to share.
Fell by the hunter’s skill,
The boy was always near
To help with right good-will.
Between two mountains steep,
Shut in both right and left,
Their questing way they keep,
With hunger fierce and fell,
Rush at them unawares
Right down the narrow dell.
And ran with tenor wild:
One of the pair of savage beasts
Pursued the shrieking child.
He knew one charge was all,—
And through the boy’s pursuing foe
He sent his only ball.
Came on with dreadful pace:
The hunter stood unarmed,
And met him face to face.
Against those frightful paws
The rifle butt, or club of wood,
Could stand no more than straws.
And looked him in the face:
The wild beast stopped amazed,
Then came with slackening pace.
Although his heart beat high:
Again the creature stopped,
And gazed with wondering eye.
Nor yet an inch gave way;
The bear turned slowly round,
And slowly moved away.
It would be hard to spell:
What thoughts were in George Nidiver
I rather guess than tell.
Swift choice of generous part,
Showed in its passing gleam
The depths of a brave heart.