When they down the gorge descended,

Winding toward the Tennessee,

Branch and bough o’erhead were bending

And no landscape could they see,

And the labyrinthian footway

Led through forests dense and dark

And the air was sweetly laden

With the bruised birchen bark;

A glimpse of the Craggies. From top of Chimney Rock.
Graybeard Mountain. Chimney Top.

Hemlocks tall and swaying gently