Whose azure depths the quiet shadows wear——
Crowning my mountain with their distance fair.
III.—NIGHT.
The strong uplifter of the wilderness,
Holder of mighty silence voiceful made,
With bird-song drifting from the spruces’ shade,
By quivering winds that murmur in distress,
Proud stands my mountain, clothed with loneliness
That awesome grows when darkness veileth all
And south wind shroudeth with a misty pall