Classic Poem

Who has not observed the mutability and ever changing aspect of
earthly things? Here, in this pleasant village, where rises the
towering spire, the lofty mansion and the humble cottage, with all
the varieties appertaining to our village, its numerous factories
and pleesant school houses, its well erected bridge over its foaming
waters, once the Indian roamed, in untamed freedom, through forests
unbroken by the woodman's axe. Here resounded the fierce war-whoop,
and here the wild death song; here was built the council-fire, and
here was smoked the pipe of peace; in fine, here on this very spot
existed all the elements of savage life. The light canoe was paddled
over the roaring stream, that thundered on in its majesty, even as
now.

But the white man came and scattered the race, and civilization spread
its changes over the scene. Thus society is ever changing; even
beautiful cities that have existed in all the pomp of wealth and
elegance, have now become extinct, and are covered by the dust of
ages.

Man's life, too, is one constant scene of change, from infancy to
childhood, from childhood to manhood, and from manhood to old age. And
many are the vicissitudes which await us during our journey through
life. One generation passes away to be succeeded by another; we
too must change, and when we shall be sought by our friends in our
accustomed places, and they shall ask, "Where are they?" Echo shall
answer, "Where?"