Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/111

Thy guide the furthest peak!" Abrupt, he turned,
And waited no response, but instant went;
Yet oft his face, reverted, backward shone,
With the rapt look that owns a master race
Suddenly seen, miraculous, divine.
But the warned Roamer fled the haunted ground,
And, lifting up his eyes, he saw, above,
The lonely peak in heaven, and knew the sign.
⁠After brief interval he found the place,
A valley, folded in the mounded hills,
Frequent with fall and chasm, gorge and height.
Eastward, the mass of shadow, lengthening, fell;
And, darkening, hill by hill gave up its crown.
"An hour, ere sunset, yet is mine," he said.
The waterfall came down in snowy sheets,
Foaming from shelf to shelf of bowery green,
A dropping river; thrice it laced the air,
Filled the loud vale, and misted flower and leaf
Of the rich verdure on its emerald sides.
He crossed the channel upon fallen stones;
Up through the blossomy depths he made his way
Amid the noise of waters and the charm
Of the still landscape in eve's parting hour;
And twice he rested; twice in calm repose
The storm of waters held him round enisled

With the sweet peace of beauty, isolate