Classic Poem

Beyond Vermont's green hills, against the skies,
'Mid light clouds floating in the deepest blue,
New-Hampshire's distant, snow-clad mountains rise,
Lofty, distinct, and palpable to view:
Hill, dale, brook, forest, lake, or lawn supplies
The lovely landscape with a different hue,
Sunset and moonlight lending each their ray,
As into twilight melts the closing day.

The moon is high! how well her calm, cold beams
Light Art and Nature's desert wilds and walls!
Whether on Alpine heights her lustre gleams,
Or on the plundered Colosseum falls,
The chosen star of ruins still she seems:
In all she hides or shows—obscures—recalls—
Oblivion, memory, and fancy blend
As on the partial pages of a friend.