High up the sloping mountain In the valley down below,
The Earth's soft curve is brightened
With a gilded water's glow.
The sun breaks over captured glass
That smarts the eyes with tears;
And fleeting must the glancer grasp
The burning sweet of broken mirrors.
And down the sloping mountain,
While the sun burns in the sky,
The lakes will slumber down the way,
And drink the tears the sun will cry.
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