From his book Poems
To Jeanie
Dear Jeanie, while the deaf’ning roar
Of Niagara shakes the shore,
And in a misty mantle hoar,
Shrouds rock and tree,
My thoughts fly homeward evermore
To worship thee.
ʼTis true, this is the place and time
To feel and foster the sublime ;
Where men of ev’ry hue and clime,
Meet to adore,
And the rapt spirit’s glowing hymn,
May heavenward soar.
Yet still thy form, my peerless Jean,
Is ever present to my e’en,
Lighting with smiles each sylvan scene
By bower and hall,
Log-hut and hamlet, woodland green
And waterfall.
And when alone I wond’ring stand
Amid these revelations grand,
Which the Almighty builder’s hand
On high did rear,
I whisper, while my thoughts expand,
“ Would she were here ! ”
Would she were here to share my bliss,
Beholding grandeur such as this,
Where loud the tortur’d waters hiss,
And bright on high
The rainbow in its loveliness
Bedecks the sky.
Since first the stars together sung,
And earth was fair, and Time was young,
And Eden’s bowers responsive rung
Man’s song of praise,
That bow of beauty there hath hung
Its prism rays.
So o’er the scenes of storm and strife
That cloud the weary dream of life,
With pleasures scant, with sorrows rife,
A bow shall be
Thy love, my own leal-hearted wife,
For aye to me.
Away, ye hours, on falcon wing,
And back the wand’ring Willie bring,
Who scarcely now can think or sing,
Of aught but hame,
And her the queen of all the ring,
Dear Jeanie Graham.
Source: William Wilson, edited by Benson J. Lossing . Poems. 2nd ed. Poughkeepsie, NY : Archibald Wilson, 1875.
This poem is not found in the 1st edition published 1869, but is also found in the 3rd edition of 1881