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 reverent Mussulman bends low to greet You, Tschatir Dagh, Crimea's bright-masted ship! World-altar,--minaret--the place where dip Down stairs from golden Heaven for the feet!...
Below me half a world I see outspread; Above, blue heaven; around, peaks of snow; And yet the happy pulse of life is slow, I dream of distant places, pleasures dead. The woods of Lithuania I would tread...