Augustus E. Silliman, A gallop among American scenery (1843)
“ We clear the broad meadows. Our very horses, with ears erect, gather speed with every bound, and seem ready to cry ha! ha! We are the fabled centaurs of old.See! see!—the heavy morning mist, rising in huge volumes, reluctantly bares the forest on the mountain side,—it curls and breaks in vast masses,—it slowly rolls off to the eastward. Aye! there he stands—there stands old Holyoke, with his cragged coronal of rocks, a gigantic Titan, bidding defiance to time and tempest. Gallop—gallop! we are within two hundred feet of the summit. ”
