And once we built our fortress where you see Yon group of spruce-trees sidewise on the line Where the horizon to the eastward bounds,- A point selected by sagacious art, Where all at once we viewed the Vermont hills, And the long outlines of the mountain-ridge, Ever renewing, changeful every hour; And, sunk below us in that lowland world, The lone Farm-steading where the bleaching cloth, Small spot of white, lay out upon the lawn; Behind, smooth walls of rock, and trees each side, Sifting the blast two ways; and on the south Our wigwam opened, showing in its length That flattened hay-stack or repeated hill,- Wachusett! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RAIN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE SILENT VOICES by ALFRED TENNYSON MUSIC IN CAMP by JOHN REUBEN THOMPSON MYSTERIOUS LIFE by EMMA BERGSTROM SIC SEMPER INSURANTIBUS by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 105 by BLISS CARMAN TO ANOTHER POET by ELLA STRATTON COLBO |