44 Two Sentinels 
Leaving none to render witness 
To the glory of their forest. 
Morning dawned, and snowflakes fluttered 
Millions deep upon the mountains, 
Frozen tears of Nature's pity 
Sent to hide the deed of darkness. 
All the western slope of Paugus, 
Passaconway's northern ledges, 
Heaped with death were left dismantled, 
Stripped of every form of beauty. 
Years have passed, but still the mountains 
Know the sentinels in sable. 
When they tap the hemlock's shoulders 
Terror thrills the broken forest. 
Few their words and seldom spoken, 
But when spoken full of meaning. 
For to them the fall of forests 
By the axe, or by the storm wind. 
Means the loss of home and shelter, 
Means extinction in the mountains 
Which have been their border outposts 
Since the red men trod the valleys. 
