He was the heart of all the scene; On him the sun looked more serene; To hill and cloud his face was known,— Me through trackless thickets led, Through thick-stemmed woodlands rough and wide. I found the water's bed. The watercourses were my guide; 125 130 135 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, 140 And their resistless friendship showed: The foodful waters fed me, And brought me to the lowest land, Unerring to the ocean sand. 145 The moss upon the forest bark Was pole-star when the night was dark; |