Imagens das páginas

He was the heart of all the scene;

On him the sun looked more serene;

To hill and cloud his face was known,—
It seemed the likeness of their own;
They knew by secret sympathy
The public child of earth and sky.
"You ask," he said, "what guide

Me through trackless thickets led,

Through thick-stemmed woodlands rough and wide.

I found the water's bed.

The watercourses were my guide;




I traveled grateful by their side,

Or through their channel dry;

They led me through the thicket damp,

Through brake and fern, the beavers' camp,

Through beds of granite cut my road,


And their resistless friendship showed:
The falling waters led me,

The foodful waters fed me,

And brought me to the lowest land,

Unerring to the ocean sand.


The moss upon the forest bark

Was pole-star when the night was dark;

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