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Nor sadden or lonely, as one in despair

Sees the beasts of the forest just ’mergd from their lair,

But cheerful and tranquil, I cast my eyes o’er

The wide-spreading Platt, where I ne’er roamd before.

Its banks are all plat, and its islands are flat,

Its waters are tranquil, and turbid at that.

Protrusion of sandbars are seen all along,

To hinder the boatman—here’s nought of his song.

Still anxious for knowledge, I turnd me around.

And saw at short distance what coverd the ground.

’Twere wagons, full many, an Oregon train,

Who’d left their lovd homes, ne’er to see them again.

If you ask what their hearts speak whilst moving along,

I fear they will mingle a tear with their song,

Whilst telling the story of wandering so far,

With their dear earthly all in their pockets and car.

The parent is anxious for his loving child,

The dame is more careless, less cautious and mild,

The lad cares for little, if father is near,

Of wars or of bloodshed—he’ll shrink to the rear.

Then who shall watch over, and daily provide