There's a Spot in the Mountains
There's a spot in the mountains, where the dew,
dear,
Is laden with the odors of the pine,
Where the heavens seem unbounded, and their
blue, dear,
Is deepest where it mirrored seems to shine.
There, at morn and eve, with rapture old and new,
dear,
The thrushes sing their double song divine,
And the melody their voices breathe, of you, dear,
Speaks ever to this happy heart of mine.
There's a cabin in the mountains, where the fare,
dear,
Is frugal as the cheer of Arden blest;
But contentment sweet and fellowship are there,
dear,
And Love, that makes the feast he honors—
best!
There's a lake upon the mountains, where our boat,
dear,
Moves gayly up the stream or down the tide,
Where, amidst the scented lily-buds afloat, dear,
We dream the dream of Eden as we glide!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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