Читать книгу The Trail of the Goldseekers: A Record of Travel in Prose and Verse - Garland Hamlin - Страница 11

I mount and mount toward the sky,

The eagle's heart is mine,

I ride to put the clouds a-by

Where silver lakelets shine.

The roaring streams wax white with snow,

The eagle's nest draws near,

The blue sky widens, hid peaks glow,

The air is frosty clear.

And so from cliff to cliff I rise,

The eagle's heart is mine;

Above me ever broadning skies,

Below the rivers shine.