Where still unlevelled shone their grassy crown.
The troubled river had no vision borne
Of gleaming hill and tree-o’ershadowed shore;
The birches, bending their lost mirror o’er,
Met but the driven waves’ unwilling scorn;
Yet heaven’s blue the broken waters bore,
The breeze but strengthened as it hurried o’er.
II.
Lightening their labor with a careless song,
Birds o’er the meadow swept with busy wing,