Blinding my eyes with tears, smiting my heart
Like some fire-pointed, swift-descending dart,
And giving strength unto my climbing feet
Seeking those dim and misty hills of blue.
Lo! the great mountains at thy music thrilled,
And all their deep recesses echoes filled—
Near and more near the sunlit summits grew!
The little birds that gathered, unafraid,
On berry-laden boughs beside my way
Mingled thy cadence with their roundelay—