The mountain's sides Are flecked with gleams of light and spots of shade; Here, golden sunshine spreads in mellow rays, and there, Stretching across its hoary breast, deep shadows lurk. A stream, with many a turn, now lost to sight, And then, again revealed, winds through the vale, Shimmering in the early morning sun. A few white clouds float in the blue expanse, Their forms revealed in the clear lake beneath, Which bears upon its breast a bark canoe, Cautiously guided by a sinewy arm. High in the heavens, three eagles proudly poise, Keeping their mountain eyrie still in view, Although their flight has borne them far away. Upon the cliff which beetles o'er the pool, Two Indians, peering from…
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