• Where ancient forests round us spread,
      Where bends the cataract’s ocean-fall,
    On the lone mountain’s silent head,
      There are thy temples, God of all!

    Beneath the dark-blue, midnight arch,
      Whence myriad suns pour down their rays,
    Where planets trace their ceaseless march,
      Father! we worship as we gaze.

    The tombs thine...