Man’s guilty foot could wander here,
Or war’s unhallowed trumpet wake
The slumbering echoes, rudely break
The solemn, deep, unearthly still,
Which to a stranger’s soul must thrill
A sense of awe—as though he trod
A temple consecrate to God!
Yet war can penetrate e’en here
To blight the beauties of creation,
Till Nature’s calmest scenes appear