The cot, the glade, the forests backward glide;
Until the shadows, moving as they flew,
Closed round the green and shut the roof from view.
IX.
Pawtucket’s murmurs die upon their ears,
As through the smooth expanse the swift canoe
Drives on; and now the straitened pass appears
With jutting mounds that lofty forests shew;—
Each giant trunk a navy’s timber rears;
Their mighty shadows o’er the flood they threw,