| |
They near'd the earth—a richly wooded plain15
|
| |
Between two mountain ranges shelter'd well, |
| |
And opening to the north on the blue main, |
| |
Seem'd safe from all the ills that e'er befel |
| |
Earth's fairest portions—floods nor famine fell |
| |
Could there intrude, and e'en the hot siroc, |
| |
Fenc'd out by mountain-spirits' icy spell, |
| |
Dar'd not o'erpass the boundaries of rock |
| |
Which spread their cooling shades o'er tree, and stream, and flock. |