A SONNET. <br /> <br /> <br />Thine eyes shall see the light of distant skies: <br />Yet, COLE! thy heart shall bear to Europe's strand <br />A living image of thy native land, <br />Such as on thine own glorious canvas lies; <br />Lone lakes--savannas where the bison roves-- <br />Rocks rich with summer garlands--solemn streams-- <br />Skies, where the desert eagle wheels and screams-- <br />Spring bloom and autumn blaze of boundless groves. <br />Fair scenes shall greet thee where thou goest--fair, <br />But different--everywhere the trace of men, <br />Paths, homes, graves, ruins, from the lowest glen <br />To where life shrinks from the fierce Alpine air, <br />Gaze on them, till the tears shall dim thy sight, <br />But keep that earlier, wilder image bright.<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-cole-the-painter-departing-for-europe/
