The very echoes round this shore, Have caught a strange and gibbering tone, For they have told the war-whoop o'er, Till the wild chorus is their own. Wave of the wilderness, adieu-- Adieu, ye rocks, ye wilds, ye woods! Roll on, thou Element of blue, And fill these awful solitudes! Thou hast no tale to tell of man. God is thy theme. Ye sounding caves, Whisper of Him, whose mighty plan, Deems as a bubble all your waves! The "Birth Night of the Humming Birds" has been declared by the London _Athenaeum_ equal to Dr. Drake's "Culprit Fay," and it may be regarded as in its way the best specimen of Mr. Goodrich's talents. It is too long to be quoted in these paragraphs. In descriptions of nature he is uniformly successful, presenting his picture with force and distractness. There are many examples of this in one of his longest poems, "The Mississippi," in which the traditions that cluster around the Father of Waters, and the advances of civility along his borders, are graphically presented. The river is described as rising. [Illustration] "Far in the west, where snow-capt mountain's rise, Like marble shafts beneath heaven's stooping dome, And sunset's charming curtain drapes the skies As if Enchantment there would build her home. The bard laments that "though these scenes are fair As fabled Arcady, the sylph and fay, And all their gentle kindred, shun the air, Where car and steamer make their stormy way;" Yet trusts that in a future time, "Perchance some Cooper's magic art may wake The sleeping legends of this mighty vale, And twine fond memories round the lawn and lake, Where Warrior fought or Lover told his tale. In the volume are several allegorical pieces of much merit, of which the most noticeable are the "Two Windmills," "The Bubble Chase," and "The Rainbow Bridge." Several smaller poems are distinguished for a quaint simplicity, reminding us of the old masters of English verse; and others, for refined sentiment, as the "Old Oak," of which the key-note is in the lines, Here is the grassy knoll I used to seek At summer noon, beneath the spreading shade, And watch the flowers that stooped, with glowing cheek, To meet the romping ripples as they played. [Illustration] The longest of Mr. Goodrich's poems is "The Outcast." It was first published many years ago, and it appears now with the improvements suggested by reflection and criticism. Its fault is, a certain _intensity_, but it has noble passages, betraying a careful study and profound appreciation of the subtler operations of the mind, particularly, when, in its most excited action, it is influenced by the observation of nature.