Saturday, April 12, 2008

Cullasajah


Loveliest and purest Nymph of the mountains,
Cradled in rock and fed by the fountains,
But like some bold hoyden at play!
Behold her wild run as she leaps down a rock!
(Some earthquake river boulder or block)
And is there dashed into spray!
Hark! it's the roar of a wild cataract.
My heart throbs while I in wonder look back,
Up a dark glen wierd and wild,
Twixt rock-cliffs lofty and hoary,
And now I see what? This nymph in her glory ---
She is Nature's fairest, spoiled child
Robed in a veil of mist she leaps into a pool,
That is breezy and pure, shady and cool;
She rests there awhile,
'Til joined by many a sister and brother
She starts on her way home to her mother,
With filial devotion.
And passing Mount Lookout many a mile,
There looms to her view a palm-covered isle,
Where she meets Mother Ocean.

(Silas McDowell, Asheville Citizen, August 5, 1875)

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