Page:Poems Denver.djvu/120

And, bright as those which monarchs wear,
 Tinged with a sun-set glow,
Upon the head of Loch-na-gair,
 He saw his crown of snow.

And borne upon the whispering breeze
 When evening skies were dim,
The song of birds amidst the trees
 Came pleasantly to him.
And the sound of gushing waters fell
 On his attentive ear.
The same his boyhood loved so well
 In woodland haunts to hear.

Waving its palm-like hands on high,
 The stately fir-tree rose,
Like a proud chief triumphantly,
 Amidst admiring foes.
He trod the precipice's brow,
 Where oft in wayward mood,
He gazed into the depths below,
 At the down-rushing flood.

The elm-tree calmly raised its head,
 Towards the o'er arching blue,
And on his father's humble shed
 A friendly shadow threw;
And humble flowers looked up to him
 With tearful, earnest eyes,
When tremblingly the evening hymn
 Swelled upward towards the skies