Skirting the rocks at the forest edgeWith a running flame from ledge to ledge,Or swaying deeper in shadowy glooms,A smoldering fire in her dusky blooms;Bronzed and molded by wind and sun,Maddening, gladdening every oneWith a gypsy beauty full and fine,—A health to the crimson columbine!
elaine goodale eastmanHe went up on the mountain beside the giant stone They knew he was insane so they left him alone He'd given up enlisting help for there was no one else He spent his days devising ways to stop the rock himself One night while he was working building braces on the ledge The ground began to rumble the rock trembled on the edge.
harry chapinMy garden is a forest ledge Which older forests bound; The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge, Then plunge to depths profound!
ralph waldo emersonHere are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.