We sat within the cabin old, 'Twas built of logs, and small; The blazing fire of beechen sticks Lit up the dingy wall. Discerned we with our searching eyes While glowed the fire's bright light, On strong supports above the door A rifle polished bright. The crickets chirped solemnly Among the chimney's clay, Dozing upon the hearthstone wide A brindled kitten lay. We chatted with our host who had For more than three score year, Lived among the Cumberlands A sturdy mountaineer. He sat with legs crossed, loosely clad In home spun suit of grey, While smoke in billowy waves of blue Curled from his pipe of clay. He was our guide while we were there Among those mountains high; Whose every rill and valley were Familiar to his eye. He told of when ferocious beasts Roamed o'er those mountains wild; He told us of the time when he An Indian chief had killed. Yes, many tales he told to us Of ancient deeds performed By him among the Cumberlands With knife and musket armed. And while we listened to those tales More fanciful than truthful, We noted well our host's blue eyes Large, sparkling, keen, and youthful. The tranquil peace and happiness That sweet contentment brings, And which our host possessed is not A heritage for kings. Nor for those who daily walk The crowded ways of life, Eager for gain and eminence Though won and held through strife. 'Twas thus I pondered long that night In meditation deep, While lying on my bed before I closed my eyes in sleep. I coveted my host who lived With peace of mind unbounded, Beside the Sandy river By mountain walls surrounded. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES BY CLAUDIA by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE BROWN GIANT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON SHADOWS OF RECOLLECTION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE COYOTE CHORUS by ANNE BIRDSALL ONLY A PIN by ISAAC HINTON BROWN CHARLIE HE'S MY DARLING by ROBERT BURNS HAYING, VERMONT AND GINGER DRINK COORDINATED by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |