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[67] Yet ne'er before that river's rim
     Was pressed by feet of mine,
Never before mine eyes had crossed
     That broken mountain line.

A presence, strange at once and known,
     Walked with me as my guide;
The skirts of some forgotten life
     Trailed noiseless at my side.

Was it a dim-remembered dream?
     Or glimpse through eons old?
The secret which the mountains kept
     The river never told.

But from the vision ere it passed
     A tender hope I drew,
And, pleasant as a dawn of spring,
     The thought within me grew,

That love would temper every change,
     And soften all surprise,
And, misty with the dreams of earth,
     The hills of Heaven arise.


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1873 AD (1)
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