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"It's the sight of my eyes I wish I had in the light of the sun this mornin'. Tell me, what is't you see?" "I see the trees on the foot-hills, and all the branches shine with frost. There is a path so wide! between two groves of pines. On Whiteface Mountain lies a glacier-field . . . and all is still." . . . "The voice of you is far-away-like, Pierre it shivers as a hawk cries.
"It's the sight of my eyes I wish I had in the light of the sun this mornin'. Tell me, what is't you see?" "I see the trees on the foot-hills, and all the branches shine with frost. There is a path so wide! between two groves of pines. On Whiteface Mountain lies a glacier-field... and all is still."... "The voice of you is far-away-like, Pierre it shivers as a hawk cries.
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