But now I love the calm retreat,
Away from tumult, noise and strife,
And in the works of nature sweet
I learn her laws, the laws of life.

The monuments which I erect
Will hand my name for ages down,
While tombs of kings will meet neglect,
Or worse, be greeted with a frown.

My trees will bloom and bear their fruit,
My carp-pond glitter in the sun;
My cherished grape-vines too, though mute,
Will tell the world what I have done.

Now lest you think that I am vain,
And that my trumpeter is dead,
I'll drop this graceless, boasting strain,
And sing of you, dear Coz, instead.

Of all my Cousins, old or new,
I love the prairie chicken best,
I see the rising sun in you,--
Although you're rising in the west.

The picture you are working on,
I'd almost give my eyes to see,
I know it is a striking one,
For it is of the "deep blue sea."