Classic Poem

A RUGGED mountain, round whose summit proud
The eagle sailed, or heaved the thunder cloud,
Poured from its cloven breast a gurgling brook,
Which down the grassy glades its journey took;
Oft bending round to lave, with rambling tide,
The groves of evergreens on either side.
Fast by this stream, where yet its course was young,
And, stooping from the heights, the forest flung
A grateful shadow o'er the narrow dell,
Appeared the Missionary's hermit cell.
Woven of wattled boughs, and thatched with leaves,
The sweet wild jasmine clustering to its eaves,
It stood, with its small casement gleaming through
Between two ancient cedars. Round it grew
Clumps of acacias and young orange bowers,
Pomegranate hedges, gay with scarlet flowers,
And pale-stemmed fig-trees with their fruit yet green,
And apple blossoms waving light between.
All musical it seemed with humming bees;
And bright-plumed sugar-birds among the trees
Fluttered like living blossoms.
In the shade
Of a grey rock, that midst the leafy glade
Stood like a giant sentinel, we found
The habitant of this fair spot of ground—
A plain tall Scottish man, of thoughtful mien;
Grave, but not gloomy. By his side was seen
An ancient Chief of Amakósa's race,
With javelin armed for conflict or the chase.
And, seated at their feet upon the sod,
A Youth was reading from the Word of God,
Of Him who came for sinful men to die,
Of every race and tongue beneath the sky

Unnoticed, towards them we softly stept.
Our Friend was rapt in prayer; the Warrior wept,
Leaning upon his hand; the Youth read on.
And then we hailed the group: the Chieftain's Son,
Training to be his country's Christian guide—
And Brownlee and old Tshátshu side by side.