OR, THE WORLD HAS CHANGED. 17 



LAND OF THE SKY. 



That beautful land of the sky, 

 Grand mountains rivalling Italy ; 

 From their high tops the grandest view, 

 For vast expanse we ever knew. 



From great Sheep Cliff, the main Blue Ridge, 

 Long, narrow, like a mountain bridge ; 

 On that high perch we've often stood. 

 And gazed afar 'pon field and wood. 



O'er tops of hundred circling peaks. 

 And endless coves and cliffs in streaks, 

 Boundless forests, with much Spruce pine, 

 And all the brooks, the Laurel line. 



Here and there we see bright cascades, 

 Snowy waters leaping to the glades ; 

 Northward the Smoky Mountains blue, 

 And noted for this special hue. 



Here the balmy Balsams intervene. 

 Wrapt in their softer velvet green, 

 Though together so closely linked. 

 Their shades of culor quite distinct. 



Now mark those ridges taper down, 

 Towards the plain, the level ground ; 

 There we have the ocean view, 

 Those white spots like white caps too. 



•See the field and wood sink and swell, 

 Doth imitate old ocean well; 

 Watch the glories of setting sun. 

 Painting resplendant the horizon. 



