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poems.
113
O'er rocks where wolves alone were heard,
Or the loud shriek of some fierce bird;
Through stony brake and stormy wild
They led the weary wand'ring child.
The sunshine fell, but mists conceal'd
The horrors it had else reveal'd;
And gloomy caves and dark rocks bare
Loud echo'd thunders rolling there;
While crashing ice loud roar'd around,
A deep, harsh, melancholy sound.
But from the snowy heights now pass'd,
They to the vale descend at last,
And, where a sunny mountain flood
Sings in the dreary solitude,
They swift its winding course pursue
To a calm spot with verdure new.

The noon was come, and they must rest;
'Twas by a small lake's smiling breast,
Where forest trees their boughs entwine
And shelter many a flower and vine,
While many a cliff* and shadowy brake
Rise shelt'ring o'er the silent lake.
There soft the light of summer skies
In the pure sleeping water lies,
And never o'er the crystal wave