Mount Yohah lifts the neighboring hills above,
While, at his foot, all pleasantly is spread
Nacoochee’s vale, sweet as a dream of love.
Cradle of Peace! mild, gentle as the dove
Whose tender accents from yon woodlands swell,
Must she have been who thus has interwove
Her name with thee, and thy soft, holy spell,
And all of peace which on this troubled globe may dwell!
Nacoochee—in tradition, thy sweet queen—
Has vanished with her maidens: not again