University of Virginia Library

XXI.

He lived alone five hills between,
Whose sunny peaks are always green,
For while they glistened high with snow,
The roses blossomed bright below.
The birds were on their branches singing,
And fountains from their basis springing,
That eddied near, but onward run,
Till many first, were, lastly, one.
And over these celestial waters
The exile shed his daily tears!
And mourned, alas! like Zion's daughters,
When captive in their earlier years!
The valley spread its waving green,
And mantled every hill between.
And Gilead balms perfumed the air,
But Ishmael's sons were wanting there.
No fragments there from ancient walls,
But flindered rocks from waterfalls—
An elegance that art survives—
The finest touch the painter gives.
Though Jacob's well cannot be seen,
Where Shiloh saw Samaria's daughter,
Adown each emerald hill between,
Five fountains from their crystal water,
Till all uniting, eddying, make
One gentle, deep, unruffled lake,
That, like man's life must onward go,
And end—but where—we do not know.