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my mountain.
All night, from the cottage-window
I can hear the river's tune;
But the hushed air gives no answer
Save the hemlocks' sullen rune.
I can hear the river's tune;
But the hushed air gives no answer
Save the hemlocks' sullen rune.
A lamb's bleat breaks through the stillness,
And into the heart of night.—
Afar and around, the mountains,
Veiled watchers, expect the light.
And into the heart of night.—
Afar and around, the mountains,
Veiled watchers, expect the light.
Then up comes the radiant morning
To smile on their vigils grand.
Still muffled in cloudy mantles
Do their stately ranges stand?
To smile on their vigils grand.
Still muffled in cloudy mantles
Do their stately ranges stand?
It is not the lofty Haystacks
Piled up by the great Notch-Gate,
Nor the glow of the Cannon Mountain,
That the Dawn and I await,
Piled up by the great Notch-Gate,
Nor the glow of the Cannon Mountain,
That the Dawn and I await,
To loom out of northern vapors;
But a shadow, a pencilled line,
That grows to an edge of opal
Where earth-light and heaven-light shine.
But a shadow, a pencilled line,
That grows to an edge of opal
Where earth-light and heaven-light shine.
