Come with me, and climb the proud mountain’s brow,
To view with high wonder the scene below,
Where huge hills heave like a foaming sea
By enchantment struck to tranquility.
Oh naught can depict to the mind’s deep sight
The terrible view from a mountain height,
As to fancy that ocean in awful storm
Had been turned to stone, with each wave in form.
In vallies beneath, calm lakes glitter bright
With radiant gleams of silvery light,