Logy Bay Valley

What a sweet little vale; how it swells in the sight,
In greenwood and grove, and soft tremulous light;
With visions of peace the rapt bosom it fills
As it slumbers deep-set in its rim of rude hills.

O’er green sloping ridges white cottages shine
Amid belts of tall fir and feathery pine,
And here and there swaying by ravine and dell,
Blue streamers of smoke o’er the waving trees swell.

They swell, and then stooping in graceful mood sail
O’er the stream that careers in the midst of the vale.
Sweet Logy Bay Valley-bright jewel thou art,
I love thee,--yes, love-in the depths of this heart.

Ah, talk not to me of bright scenes far away,--
Of your subjects of art,--the grand, solemn and gay
I look around at you vale in its smiling repose,
And recall while you dream, all the rapture of those.

Lo! There! where the ocean in majesty rolls;
And there where the tall cliff his anger controls,
As he, lashed by the tempest, his billows dash headlong
the wild crags among.

But aside from its peace ne’er that vale can be won;
In its own native loneliness still smiling on.
‘Tis thus, while the passions lead mortals astray
Fair wisdom unwavering still keeps on her way.

Her step from truth’s pathway no will can entice,
All tranquil she moves ‘mid the tumult of vice.
Sweet Logy Bay Valley-how soothing the thrill
Of my heart when I view thee from Sugar Loaf Hill

By Hon. Thomas Talbot

Transcription taken from transcription of the papers of H.F. Shortis, vol. VII, 165, in the Provincial Archives, St. John’s