The mighty mountain flings its mist-veil down; With little flowers the gracious fields are bright, And from the forest colors flash to sight Like gems that drop from off a Calif's crown....
The drooping, weary day night pushed aside; On Tschatir Dagh the sullen sun and low Paints phantom purple upon ancient snow; While forest ways within, the wanderers hide....
Across sea-meadows measureless I go, My wagon sinking under grass so tall The flowery petals in foam on me fall, And blossom-isles float by I do not know. No pathway can the deepening twilight show;...
Pray! Pray! Let loose the bridle. Look not down! The humble horse alone has wisdom here. He knows where blackest the abysses leer And where the path in safety leads us down....