The Poetical Works of Jonathan E. Hoag/To Mount McGregor

by Jonathan E. Hoag

To Mount McGregor
(Near Greenwich, New York)

Hail, lonely peak, whose gray, unchanging crest
Bears the stern scars where glacial legions pressed;
Whose lofty brow defied the hosts that came
Down from the realms of cold auroral flame.
Weird was the night, when earth's ebullient deep
Cast up thy form, an outer watch to keep;
When newborn skies uncanny radiance shed,
Whilst frozen floods diffused a crystal dread.
Hast still in memory aught of that far day,
Ere the fair Hudson flowed its peaceful way;
Ere brother mountains touched the vaulted sky,
Or flowers or forests blessed the searching eye?
Vast boulders lying round thy rugged base
Bespeak an age when mortals had no place;
Tell of the times when mindless force could roll,
Unseen, unchallenged, from the arctic pole.
Then, too, we pause, and view with reverent mien
The sad memorials of a later scene;
When here with flashing blade a hero fought,
And to his cause a gory victory brought.
Beside the stream he saw the legions fall,
And heard the crackling shot of whining ball;
Beheld the carnage as it darkly spread
O'er hill and dale, to leave its rows of dead.
Here from our rustic seat we seem to see
The past outspread in vivid pageantry;
The dim, veiled ages, when yon peak arose,
The silent march of grim encroaching snows,
The lonely campfires of the savage train,
And the white hosts that battled on the plain.
Afar, there rise the mountains green and grand;
Close by, the biers of fallen heroes stand;
Whilst over all, unchanged against the skies,
Towers the gray peak, inscrutable and wise!

April 15, 1920