Heavy with haze that merges and melts free <br /> Into the measureless depth on either hand, <br /> The full day rests upon the luminous land <br /> In one long noon of golden reverie. <br /> Now hath the harvest come and gone with glee. <br /> The shaven fields stretch smooth and clean away, <br /> Purple and green, and yellow, and soft gray, <br /> Chequered with orchards. Farther still I see <br /> Towns and dim villages, whose roof-tops fill <br /> The distant mist, yet scarcely catch the view. <br /> Thorold set sultry on its plateau'd hill, <br /> And far to westward, where yon pointed towers <br /> Rise faint and ruddy from the vaporous blue, <br /> Saint Catharines, city of the host of flowers.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-niagara-landscape/
