Page:Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse.pdf/115



ON the summit of a Mountain, in Connecticut, is a small lake, near which stands a country house, four hundred feet above a fine valley, which it immediately overlooks. From the North end of the water, the rocks rise abruptly, an hundred feet higher, crowned by lofty forest trees, above whose branches a dark, grey Tower is seen, resembling the rock on which it stands, and commanding a distant view into the neighbouring States. The following is an attempt to describe this place, which bears the name of

HOW sweet upon the mountains brow To stand and mark the vales below; The peaceful vales that calmly sleep, Conceal'd, emerging, silent, deep; The forest shades remote from noise, The houses dwindled into toys; Or turning from this gentle scene. So mute, so distant, so serene,