Daniel Boone And The Founding Of Kentucky
. . . Boone lived hunting up to ninety; And, what's still stranger, left behind a name For which men vainly decimate the throng, Not only famous, but of that GOOD fame, Without which glory's but a tavern song,-- Simple, serene, the antipodes of shame, Which hate nor envy e'er could tinge with wrong;

'T is true he shrank from men, even of his nation; When they built up unto his darling trees, He moved some hundred miles off, for a station Where there were fewer houses and more ease;

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But where he met the individual man, He showed himself as kind as mortal can.

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The freeborn forest found and kept them free, And fresh as is a torrent or a tree.

And tall, and strong, and swift of foot were they, Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions, Because their thoughts had never been the prey Of care or gain; the green woods were their portions

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Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles, Though very true, were yet not used for trifles.

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Serene, not sullen, were the solitudes Of this unsighing people of the woods. --Byron.
End of Chapter