... mountains, that seemed stationed to sentinel every curve of this once scout- haunted sheet of water, the moon began to kindle her soft tires. ... half hid; but finally, we passed the last headland, and she sprang from the cliff like an eagle, and sailed on her starry voyage. ... and its bright balconies sleeping like a white water-lily on the verge of the lake; and above it the tall Mohican chief keeping his watch.
|Title||:||Glances at the Metropolis|
|Author||:||Charles Edwards Lester|