Just on the other side to peep

And see what might be there.

By tangled branches grasped right close,

Above impediments I rose,

And, lo, a valley fair!

Where, 'midst the shade of drooping trees,

All quiv'ring in the morning breeze,

Appeared a glitt'ring stream,

Which ran for miles, than gold more bright;

Refulgent with the source of light,