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Of forest, trail, and lake, and stream,
Rich poems bound in green and gold,
Whose leaves reflect the autumn gleam,
Ere summer months are growing old;
Of camp-fires bright with dancing flame,
Where dreams and visions floated free,
And Rosalind with Annie's name
Interpreted the dreams to me.
Lake Avalanche, with rocky wall,
And Henderson's dark-wooded shore,
Your echoes linger still, and call
Unto my soul for evermore!
Tahawas, rising stern and grand,
"Cloud-Sunderer," lift thy forehead high,
Guard well thy sun-kissed mountain land,
Whose lakes seem borrowed from the sky.
O Hudson, mountain-born and free,
Thy youth a deep impression takes,
For, mountain-guarded to the sea,
Thy course is but a chain of lakes.
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