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     Green-belted with eternal pines,
The mountains stretch away.
     Below, the maple masses sleep
Where shore with water blends,
     While midway on the tranquil deep
The evening light descends.

So seemed it when yon hill's red crown,
     Of old, the Indian trod,
And, through the sunset air, looked down
     Upon the Smile of God.
To him of light and shade the laws
     No forest skeptic taught;
Their living and eternal Cause
     His truer instinct sought.

He saw these mountains in the light
     Which now across them shines;
This lake, in summer sunset bright,
     Walled round with sombering pines.
God near him seemed; from earth and skies
     His loving voice he heard,
As, face to face, in Paradise,
     Man stood before the Lord.

Thanks, O our Father! that, like him,
     Thy tender love I see,
In radiant hill and woodland dim,
     And tinted sunset sea.
For not in mockery dost Thou fill
     Our earth with light and grace;
Thou hid'st no dark and cruel will
     Behind Thy smiling face!


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1849 AD (1)
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