Eliza Cook's Journal, Poem Addressed to Cushman, January 26, 1850

Dublin Core

Title

Eliza Cook's Journal, Poem Addressed to Cushman, January 26, 1850

Subject

Cushman, Charlotte Saunders, 1816-1876
Cook, Eliza, 1818-1889
Arts--Literature
Praise
Relationships-- Intimate--Same-sex

Description

Poem addressed to C.C. (Charlotte Cushman)

Credit

Hathi Trust

Creator

Cook, Eliza, 1818-1889

Date

1850-01-26

Type

Reference

Article Item Type Metadata

Text

OUR RAMBLES BY THE DOVE.
ADDRESSED TO C.C. IN AMERICA.

'Tis well to proudly tell me of the glories of the West,
Of the streamwith rapid torrent and the lake with heaving breast,
of the mountainand the prairie, of the forest and the bluff,
Savannah spot so fragrant and the jungle dell so rough.
I know that there are wonders in your own gigantic land,
The gorgeous and the beautiful, the startling and the grand,
I know the cataracts are bold, the fields of maize are wide,
I know the pines are thick enough to let the lightnings hide;
But glad I am to hear thee say with warm and clinging love,
Thou thinkest of Old England and our rambles by the "Dove."

Prize as thou wilt the banks that keep thy clear broad rivers in,
where panthersdrink and light canoesbear on the tawny skin,
Be speaking fondly as thou may'st of hills that climb around,
And boast of wildflowersthat bedeckthe trackless "hunting ground"
Magnolias are exquisite and humming-birds are choice,
And "whip-poor-will" may charm the with his melancholy voice;
But canst thou quite despisethe thrush that whistled on the thorn,
And those "forget-me-not." that wore the jewels of the morn,
Canst thou shut out the greenbelow and cloudless blue above,
That led us still, still onward in our rambles by the "Dove?"

Oh, no indeed, I know thy land will never chase away
The happiness we found in mine on that long, sunny day;
I know thy great White Mountains cannot dim the winding steep,
That lured us dreamily along to gain the "Lover's Leap,"
Do you remember how we sat, and tried to find a word
That would express the plashing gush of water that we heard;
And how we watched the alders bend, as peacefully and light,
As though an angel'swing had passedand touched them in its flight,
And how we said that Eastern clime held no Arcadian Grove,
Of more romanceand sweetness than the valley of the "Dove."

We were familiar with the place, we had been there before,
But somehow on this August day we worshipped it the more,
And every crag of old grey rock and every wave washedstone,
Seenuedtouchedwith richer colouring and breathed a softer tone.
That tiny river, how it crept beneath the leafy shade,
Where golden perch and silver dace in glancing frolic played,
And how it dashed in foaming haste adow in the mossy wall,
Where granite fragments broke the ſlow and made a waterfall,
And how we stood in silent joy with hearts brim full of love,
And saw the great Creator gliding onward with the "Dove."

Oh, do not let the mighty scenes that meet thy vision now
Shut out "Thorpe Cloud" that standeth like a frown on Beauty's brow,
Oh, do not let the noble trecs that spring upon thy sod,
Prompt thee to spurn the bramble arms that hugged us as we trod,
Thou wilt be seeing many things to win thy loudest praise;
But let Old England's woods and dales yet steal upon thy gaze,
Think of our merry travels on this marrowisland earth,
And own that we have often found rare spots of Eden birth,
And when amid the vast and fair thy native footsteps rove,
Call up our sunny rambles by the waters of the "Dove."

I breathed a prayer while straying there, God grant ’twas not in vain,
It asked the boons of Life and Health to seek that place again,
It asked that those around me then might share the future joy,
The hope wasearnest,strong, and pure, God keep it from alloy.
Write on—and proudly tell me of the wonders of the West,
But glad I am that more than once thy spirit hath confessed
Affection for our daisied fields, green lanes, and babbling brooks,
Our orchards and white cottages,and fairy-haunted nooks,
For I believe thet thou wilt conic with all thy olden love,
And let my prayer be answered by the waters of the "Dove."
Eliza Cook.

Provenance

Hathi Trust, http://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015074629984. Accessed May 28, 2019.

Location

London, UK

Geocode (Latitude)

51.5073219

Geocode (Longitude)

-0.1276474

Secondary Texts: Comments

Due to Cushman's huge success, Easley suggests that the public knew that how to decipher "C.C. in America" (Easley 2018, pp. 40)

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Geolocation

Collection

Citation

Cook, Eliza, 1818-1889, “Eliza Cook's Journal, Poem Addressed to Cushman, January 26, 1850,” Archival Gossip Collection, accessed March 4, 2024, https://archivalgossip.com/collection/items/show/493.

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