In the Sierra 



How soothingly, restfully cool it is beneath 

 that leafy, translucent ceiling, and how de- 

 lightful the water music the deep bass 

 tones of the fall, the clashing, ringing spray, 

 and infinite variety of small low tones of the 

 current gliding past the side of the boulder- 

 island, and glinting against a thousand smaller 

 stones down the ferny channel ! All this shut 

 in; every one of these influences acting at 

 short range as if in a quiet room. The place 

 seemed holy, where one might hope to see 

 God. 



After dark, when the camp was at rest, I 

 groped my way back to the altar boulder and 

 passed the night on it, above the water, 

 beneath the leaves and stars, - - everything 

 still more impressive than by day, the fall 

 seen dimly white, singing Nature's old love 

 song with solemn enthusiasm, while the 

 stars peering through the leaf-roof seemed 

 to join in the white water's song. Precious 

 night, precious day to abide in me forever. 

 Thanks be to God for this immortal gift. 



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