There shall the lonely mountain rose,
Wreath of the cliffs, again disclose;
Midst rocky dells, each well-known stream
Shall sparkle in the summer beam;
The birch, o’er precipice and cave,
Its feathery foliage still shall wave,
The ash midst rugged clefts unveil
Its coral clusters to the gale,
And autumn shed a warmer bloom
O’er the rich heath and glowing broom.