On the hemlock and spruce and green maple
That arbored the glen of the eagle,
And bent o’er the cave of the wolf.
How they laughed as they heard the deep groans
Of the hemlock and spruce and green maple
And their proud plumes were bowed to the ground.
The forests thus vanished away
Like the fog that is breathed from the water,
And the eagle screamed keen from the top
Of his dwelling, laid bare from her brood,