William Cullen Bryant,
The North American Review — Volume 6…
“ Might mark thy distant flight, to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side? There is a Power, whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,— The desert and illimitable air,— Lone wandering, but not lost. ”
