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This Indian village is distinguished for the remarkable variety of beautiful shrubs and evergreens that are indigenous to its mountain vicinity, and for the noble trees called pinus deodora, which not infrequently attain a height of 180 feet. The base of the Choor mountain, which hangs over this sequestered spot, is carpeted with anemones, ranunculuses, violets, cowslip, and daisies, while the adjacent forest-scene is luxuriant in the highest degree. The rhododendron with its scarlet blossoms, is succeeded by oak, walnut, birch, elm and lastly pine. The higher parts of the mountain being snow-clad the greater portion of the year are destitute of verdure. When the snow has dissolved, juniper and currants make their appearance; at an elevation of eleven thousand feet above the sea, the noblest pine-trees in existence rear their heads; and, some thousand feet lower down, a species of bamboo.

raised her palace of the snows Upon the mighty hills, Whence, in the languid summer, flows A thousand shining rills; And Nature said, This place I’ll take, My deepest solitude to make.

A thousand nameless years went by, As silent as their birth; The clouds that wandered o’er the sky Beheld no change on earth: With one unbroken chronicle, A thousand years left nought to tell.

The winds afar off heard the voice Of man’s tumultuous life; The vultures hurried to rejoice O’er its perpetual strife: With clanging wing and crimson beak, They gathered round, their dead to seek.

The days were loud with war and toil, The nights with fear and care; The dragon’s teeth within the soil Made tumult every where. And senates, met to talk of peace, Aided the turmoil to increase.