Sweet mountains! Oh, my country Edwin
How often had I laid on the pine—
Told how your fancy dimmed
So rare, retreating Eyes—

Rills enchained! Through mazy rills
It seemed to me the reason,
But when you laid
Your Pillow down

O’er me
My Emerald Hero Knight!
You filled the rocky closes
For they were abreast with Joy,

Outgrowing in my Heaven
Each Dedication on the Hill!
I loved the communication
Of Vetus Nature’s ground—

• Emily Dickinson