White clouds, whose shadows haunt the deep,
Light mists, whose soft embraces keep
The sunshine on the hills asleep;

O isles of calm, O dark, still wood,
And stiller skies, that overbrood
Your rest with deeper quietude;

O shapes and hues, dim beckoning, through

Yon mountain gaps, my longing view

Beyond the purple and the blue

To stiller sea and greener land,

And softer lights and airs more bland,
And skies the hollow of God's hand;

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ΙΟ

Transfused through you, O mountain friends,
With mine your solemn spirit blends,
And life no more hath separate ends.

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I read each misty mountain sign,
I know the voice of wave and pine,
And I am yours, and ye are mine.

Life's burdens fall, its discords cease;

I lapse into the glad release

Of nature's own exceeding peace.

2C

II. EVENING

Yon mountain's side is black with night;
While, broad-orbed, o'er its gleaming crown
The moon, slow-rounding into sight,

On the hushed inland sea looks down.

How start to light the clustering isles,

Each silver-hemmed! How sharply show

The shadows of their rocky piles

And tree-tops in the wave below!

And the young archer, Morn, shall break His arrows on the mountain pines,

And, golden-sandalled, walk the lake.

Farewell! around this smiling bay

Gay-hearted Health and Life in bloom, With lighter steps than mine, may stray In radiant summers yet to come.

But none shall more regretful leave

These waters and these hills than I,

Or, distant, fonder dream how eve

Or dawn is painting wave and sky,

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