Colter's Hell

The Yellowstone-1810

This is a man who has a tale to tell

Of far adventure on the coast of hell.

Here he sits

Upon the wharf-a target for the wits.

"After I crossed the river and went north

I came upon a strange and horrid sight-

Caverns that spouted clouds of hissing white,

Huge frothy pillars jeweled against the sky,

Leaping above the trees, jetting so high

They scattered foam on heaven.

There were thick bubbling pits, tinted like flowers,

And crimson towers-

A magic city tenanted by birds.

There was a churning horror of dark wonder,

A stinking well of mud and thunder.

There are no words. . . ."

The roaring laugh breaks out,

Shaking him into silence,

Cackling doubt.

Here is fine fun

When Colter starts to spout.

The river runs mysteriously on.

The full floods of the summer come and go.

The traders float down with the early snow,

From the dark fringe of that inviolate land.

No one to understand,

Only the fools to listen to his story,

Only the laugh, the unbelieving ears;

Down at the wharf a voice against the sneers:

"A deep pool colored like a morning-glory."

Gwendolen Haste

AFTER THE RAIN