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Our thanks to Jerry Orton for his contribution
Here is poem about Mt. McGregor that is 125 years old. Some of the words are not spelled the way they are today and some are not used at all. Hope you enjoy it.
Mount McGregor Optimist
June 1922, Vol. 8, No. 10
By W. B. R. Wescott
In wonder and delight I stand,
With nature's panorama spread.
Beneath before-on either hand!
What artist could yon mountains trace
Or paint the beauties of this plain,
Or tongue describe the lovely view-
'Twould be an effort quite in vain.
Yet human weakness tempts my pen,
Through some faint outlines to portray
The scene, which nature's hand hath wrought,
That meets my vision here today.
Upon thy left, yon mountain gorge we view,
Where foams the noble Hudson, rushing thru;
And closely nestling neath the mountain lee,
The busy village of Glens Falls we see.
And there-Fort Edward too and Sandy Hill,
Their places in the lovely picture fill.
Before me, shaded by those lofty elms.
Lies quite Gansevoort, in secluded realms;
Then just beyond, up Beacon Hill we climb;
Bald Mountain too, deserves a passing rhyme.
Yon distant town, aglow with sunlit fires,
Is Union village with its lofty spires.
While on the Hudson, shaded by the hill,
We partly see, historic Schuylerville.
On Saratoga Lake our eyes now rest,
With fairy steamers flitting on her breast;
And rising from her shore is bold Snake Hill,
With Cornell's colors proudly floating still.
Yon granite hill that to the mountain clings,
Now almost hides gay Saratoga Springs;
Yet standing on the eastern broad plateau,
Suburban villas raise their forms to view,
While through the vale the healing water flow,
Distilled by nature in her fonts below.
The Water Works, our vision has descried,
By which the thirsty village is supplied;
While Mitchell's Glen is in the mountain shade,
The Fair Grounds, too, along the highland glade.
Here quite Wilton at they feet we see.
From thence, the roads ascends thy sightly knee,
Where nature now, beneath us like a scroll,
He charming views commences to unroll.
Then up they side the woodland way extend,
When bough to bough in graceful beauty bends.
Till at the Mountain House we find a rest,
Where every comfort meets the coming guest.
Then from they brow, the view again we greet
With nature's map unrolled beneath our feet.
Upon the plain, behold the orchard now;
While lucious fruit bends low the laden bough.
Against yon eastern sky, how grand to view
The azure mountains blending blue with blue;
And trace three outlines to yon southern skies,
Where rugged Catskills join their kindred dyes.
Now here, in slumber at they mountain base,
The dimple features of a lake we trace;
While breezes, soft as those of Summer time,
Now gently whisper in our simple rhyme.
Maturing Nature, for some purpose wise,
Tints all the verdure with her changing dyes.
The maple, now in carmine beauty dressed,
The birch and elm present a yellow vest;
The oak and ask put on a coat of brown,
And yonder sumac wears a crimson crown;
While over the scene the mellow sunbeams play;
And sunset lustre lights the grand display,
Till glows the landscape in Autumal sheen,
Like one vast bouquet set in evergreen!
Now hither comes a mountain sprite,
With laughing eye and footstep light,
And leads us to her mossy throne
With velvet carpet overgrown,
And them unto her mountain dell
Wherein the speckled fishes dwell,
And now along the woodland way,
Where songsters pip their happy lay;
And each glad strain the echoes wake,
Until we reach a glassy lake,
That here in crystal beauty lies,
Reflecting back the vaulted skies.
Its shores in moss and ferns are dressed-
Fair lilies bloom upon its breast,
And giant oaks in forest grand
Like sentinels, to guard it, stand.
"What lake is this?" we ask our guide;
"It has no name," she quick replied;
"Then hence, Lake Anna, it shall be,
In compliment, fair one, to thee."
Aslant, the sunlit arrows fly,
From yonder orb in western sky,
That warn us of declining day,
And we retrace our winding way.
Here at the Mountain House once more,
We look the lovely landscape o'er;
And as we take a parting view,
We bid our mountain adieu.
Now, Mr. McGregor, we did you good night,
And wish to congratulate you,
In bringing to not a magnificent site
That rivals Mt. Washington's view.
We see an appearance of pleasure and pride,
Upon your broad countenance stand,
As guests are exclaiming to you at their side;
"Magnificent, wonderful, grand!"
Thus we tonight linger the scene to admire
E'en lovely in shadow it seems;
And now in the twilight we homeward retire
to view it again in our dreams.
Saratoga Springs, Oct., 1876
Or E-Mail me directly, if there's any problems with the form.
