"Fair Mount" by Catherine L. Brooke

(1817)

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I’ve gaz’d on many a beauteous scene,

In distant climes, where sunny skies

Smile on the vales of living green,

And torrents roll, and mountains rise:

But not in lands more warm and bright,’

Mid valleys rich, & heights sublime,

Does the eye rest with deep delight

On mingling beauties such as thine.

Whether, when morning’s golden ray,

Clothes thee in splendour, life, & light,

Or on thy gushing fountains play

The cold moonbeam, or sweet twilight;

Or bosom of thy glassy lake,

Calmly looks back the starry heaven;

Or thy stemm’d waters brightly break

In foam, & roar as downward driven,

Speaks to the spirit, soothingly,

While the soft zephyr gently blows;

Or turns to rest in thoughtful gaze,

On towers of strength, guilt’s lonely cell,

While stretching far, in the dim haze,

The crowded city lies;—where dwell

Vice clothed in pomp, and suffering worth,

The dark of soul—the pure in heart—

All that deform this glorious earth,

Or hope, or joy, to life impart,

Are struggling—living—dying there;

And the heart sickening with the view

Gladly returns to Nature fair,

Smiling ’neath skies of deepest blue;

And holy breathings calm the soul

As thought ecstatic mounts above,

To Him, whose power hath formed the whole,

The God of Nature, Life & Love