HE gazed at the green sea heaving white
And the wind-blown rocky shore,
And he said: "I must turn
To a place less stern,
When, tired in body and soul, I yearn
To sleep and be no more."
He entered the chasm haunted by
The white-robed waterfall;
But the pool below
Was cold as snow,
Not fit for a dying heart to know, -
Meant only to appall.
He climbed where Katahdin's dreadful gulch
Is walled by the precipice bare.
The inhuman tone
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