A balm to soothe the wounded mind;
Wealth's votaries never can possess
The joy we'll find in one caress,
Nor empire like the mutual union
Of soul with soul in full communion.
But here I cannot pause. Farewell
Torrent! whose thunder-mocking throne
Of ever-during power doth tell;
Whose glories, silent I have gazed upon
Till from my mind earth's joys and sorrows fell.
IX.
From crag to crag the friends have gained,
With difficult labour, the ascent,
And now upon the summit stand
With eager gaze around them bent.
Short time they tarried, ere with spring
As silent as the far bird's wing
They bounded on, yet cautiously.
Leaving no trace to mark their way.
On printless rocks alone they tread
Nor bend the humble floweret's head.
