That hides, with its shadows, the Southernmost flood.
How quiet, how peaceful, how lovely, the scene!
The glossy black shades, from yon headlands of green,
That sheet of bright crystal, which spreads from the shore,
Now dark’ning, as lightly the breeze tramples o’er,
Those shafts of quick splendor—these dazzles of light—
So painful, so blinding, eyes shrink from the sight;
And still, to our fix’d gaze, new colors reveal,
Here, gleaming like silver—there, flashing like steel.
We hear, in the stillness, the low of the herd,