A FEARFUL mountain wall, whose sweep
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At one sheer plunge, six thousand feet,
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Stoops to the valley; on each side Is tossed a very ocean tide, Of surgy, snowy mountain crest;
And all along that hillʼs steep breast With snake‐like coilings, wound our way
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On narrow shelves of rock, that lay Almost oʼerhanging, and so sheer, ʼTwas terror to look down, so near
To such a precipice of fear. And far before, and far behind, We tracked our dread wayʼs mazy wind, Continuous and descending, low, At length looked up to the white snow
From the deep valley, it would seem Incredible, a very dream, That we had scaled a ridge so high, Or climbed so near the domy sky; And we wound on, beside the course
Of a roaring torrentʼs flashing force;
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And many a fall of minor stream Down the smooth rooks came thundering, Or in white sheets of gauzy foam Mingled with archy iris shone