  I love to sit by the waterfall, And list to its laughing story, As it fearlessly leaps o'er the rocky wall, From the mountain peaks stern and hoary; Or watch the spray as the colors play, When the glorious sunlight kisses, And tints confuse into rainbow hues To embellish the wild abysses. I love the rose and the columbine, Whose delicate beauty pleases; I love the breath of the fragrant pine, As it floats on the morning breezes; I love the sound from the depths profound, When the Thunder-God is bringing His crystal showers, to the tinted flowers, In their sweet profusion springing. I love the lake in the mountain's lap; Without a flaw or error Recording the clouds, which the peaks enwrap, And the trees, as a crystal mirror; The wild delights of the mountain heights Thrill my breast with a keen devotion, As songbirds love the blue arch above, Or the mariner loves the ocean. |
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