"Sweet day! so cool, so calm, so bright
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dews shall weep thy fall tonight;
For thou must die.
Sweet rose! whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye;
Thy root is ever in the grave
And thou must die.
Sweet spring! full of sweet days and roses;
A box where sweets compacted lie;
My music shows you have your closes
And all must die.
Only a great and virtuous soul,
Like seasoned timber, never gives;
But, though the whole world turns to coal
Then chiefly lives."
CHAPTER XIII
THE ADIRONDACKS
Whoever passes through the Green mountains and arrives at
Burlington in the evening of a fair day will he rewarded by one
of the most beautiful views of natural scenery the world has to
offer. The outlook from the hilltop here is enchanting. Looking
westward you see the beautiful expanse of Lake Champlain, dotted
with numerous islands that stretch away to the purple wall of
the Adirondacks, whose summits are outlined by a bright golden
light which slowly ascends and diffuses along the horizon as if
striving to linger around the loveliness below. The sun
disappears, leaving an ocean of flame where he passes, and the
fleecy clouds which swim in the ether look down at their images
in the lake. Here you behold the Green mountains, showing
majestically against the sky.
