Old Plantation Days (Classic Reprint)

Excerpt from Old Plantation Days

He is not like another one
Of all my friends. He stands alone.
Beyond the field and bounding wood,
Far on the seashore's solitude,
A Tree behind a rugged Rock
Has long withstood the breaker's shock.
The Rock is bold and clean and hard;
Its face by tempests old is scarred.
It changes not in sun or rain,
In calm, or raging hurricane.
It has an aspect nobly grand,
Interpreting for sea and land
The grandeur of the gales that break.
But cannot once this Titan shake.
It has a beauty fine and grave,
A beauty wrought by wind and wave.
Sometimes in maelstroms it is drowned;
Sometimes by wild foam-flowers crowned
As if the mad Gale understood
The Rock's calm-couraged hardihood,
And gave, the harrying waves among,
A tribute to a champion strong. . .
No storm this outpost has escaped;
Its strength by hardship has been shaped,
By it, in nights of fear and gloom,
The Terrible was overcome.
It won in conflict, not in ease,
Its power of tremendous peace.
Such shelter as it gives the Tree,
My steadfast friend has given me.

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