Came freshening, and reflecting all the scene:
(A mirror in the depth of flowery shelves;)
So sweet a spot of earth, you might (I ween)
Have guessed some congregation of the elves,
To sport by summer moons, had shaped it for themselves.
II.
Yet wanted not the eye far scope to muse,
Nor vistas opened by the wandering stream;
Both were at evening Allegany views
Through ridges burning in her western beam,