THERE is a valley dark and deep,
In whose wild depths no kindly sun hath shone,
Torn by a swirling torrent, never fringed
By fragrant flowers, dewy with the spray;
But from its ice-clad bosom upward rise
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A score of envious cliffs, with seamed sides,
That cast the chilling shadow on the vale beneath
Of future avalanche. There, niggard earth
Takes to itself no waving robe of gold;
The scanty, fruitless plants that, timid, cling
About the rock-walled furrows, earthquake-cleft,
No kinder masters know than fire and frost.
A few steps more, and, round a jutting rock,
A fairy change! I see
A broad and sunny vale whose verdant slopes
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Fact and Rumor.
