And sped, till acute and inquisitive vision

Discerned but a movable speck in the skies.

When the shades of the evening, so listless and dreary,

Descend on the valley, his wing never flags,

As through the dark shadows he soars to his eyerie,

Which nestles among the impregnable crags.

Ah! fain would I rise on thy feathery pinions,

Above the material cares of the day,

And float over earth's most enchanting dominions,

As clouds, by the zephyrs, are wafted away!

 

The Silvery San Juan. 

Wherever I wander, my spirit still dwells,

In the silvery San Juan[E] with its streamlet and dells;

Whose mountainous summits, so rugged and high,

With their pinnacles pierce the ethereal sky;

Where the daisy, the rose, and the sweet columbine

Blend their colors with those of the sober hued pine;

Where the ceaseless erosions of measureless time,

Have chiseled the grotto and canon sublime;

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