Like ocean, and the Indian heard no sound.
II
Night and the Abyss
A lonely cabin, like an eagle’s nest,
Lodged us that night upon the monstrous brink,
And roofed us from the burning desert stars;
But, on my couch of hemlock as I lay,
The Book of Earth still opened in my dreams.
Below me, only guessed by the slow sound
Of forests, through unfathomable gulfs