STILL northward is the central mount of Maine, <br />From whose high crown the rugged forests seem <br />Like shaven lawns, and lakes with frequent gleam, <br />'Like broken mirrors,' flash back light again. <br />Eastward the sea, with its majestic plain, <br />Endless, of radiant, restless blue, superb <br />With might and music, whether storms perturb <br />Its reckless waves, or halcyon winds that reign, <br />Make it serene as wisdom. Storied Spain <br />Is the next coast, and yet we may not sigh <br />For lands beyond the inexorable main; <br />Our noble scenes have yet no history. <br />All subtler charms than those that feed the eye, <br />Our lives must give them; 'tis an aim austere, <br />But opes new vistas, and a pathway clear.<br /><br />Emma Lazarus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-76/
