From clearing rude, and dismal swamp undrained, Fumes of decaying vegetation rose; While the fell genius of distemper reigned, And filled the newly-opening realm with woes; Brave manhood smiting—though his lusty blows Tall ranks of warrior oaks in dust had bowed, And robbing widowed beauty of her rose, Or weaving, while the voice of wail was loud, Round childhood, early lost, the drapery of the shroud. Born in the lap of plenty and of wealth, Mindless, too oft, are children of the sire Who purchased at the fearful price of health, And even life, their heritage. The lyre Should call forth music from its proudest wire In praise of men who brave, to bless their kind, Tempest, the sword, foul pestilence and fire; Their names in grateful hearts should be enshrined, When crumbled are their bones—their ashes on the wind: And those who left the venerated breast, And soil of proud New England, to reclaim Our smiling El Dorado of the West From centuries of gloom, and haunts of game Change to Arcadian lovelines, and tame The virgin rudeness of the shaded mould, Should not be unremembered:—on the same Eternal page where Fame, in lines of gold, Hath _pilgrim virtue_ traced, their names should be enrolled. ----- [A] Dictus et Amphion, Thebanæ conditor arcis, Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blanda Ducere quo vellet. _Hor. de. Art. Poet._ [B] Allusion to De Nouville’s invasion, in 1687, of the Genesee valley. [C] Rochester. [D] A title assumed by the Iriquois, or Five Nations, meaning “men who surpass all others.” * * * * * NOTES. (1) “And named thee Genesee,” &c. The word Genesee is of Seneca origin, signifying “Pleasant Valley,” or “Valley of Pleasant Waters.” (2) “Since Phelps, the Cecrops of thy realm.” It may seem strange to many of the millions who are now reveling in the comforts and prosperity which the last half century has diffused through western New York, that the course of Oliver Phelps and his associates should have been then considered so hazardous, that the whole neighborhood of Granville, Mass., their native town, assembled to bid them adieu—a final adieu, as many thought; for it seemed a desperate chance that any of that intrepid band should ever return from their enterprise through a region to which the Indian title had not been extinguished. The wilderness was penetrated as far as Canandaigua Lake, and I am indebted to an old number of the New York American for the description that follows, of a treaty held on its banks with the Senecas by Phelps and his companions.