They have vanished beneath the gleam,
And the dark bare rocks on the mountain’s brow
Now greet the returning beam!
O’er the rushing stream from his fetters free,
O’er the blossoming heath, and the heaving sea,
A mantle of light is cast!
Hark—to the voice of song!
The thrush’s soft tones on the passing breeze
Like measured music float;—
And afar is heard, through the bending trees,