In the Heart of the Wasatch: The Cradle of a Mountain Stream

IN THE HEART OF THE WASATCH. THE CRADLE OF A MOUNTAIN STREAM. Behold a Babylonish pile arise, On which throughout the year the deep snow lies, While at its spiral base, as lost in sleep, A mountain lake lies cold, and dark, and deep. Upon the zig-zag cliffs of iron grey, Heavy and wan, the storm-clouds hold this day. The Tower of Babel now the thick murk glooms, And like a mighty spectral shadow looms, Dim, black, gigantic, saving for the snow, Reflected vaguely in the lake below. Anon, O dreadful sound ! the thunder peal, When e'en the giant mountains seem to reel. From "Plet,'' a poem by Alfred Lambourne.

IN THE HEART OF THE WASATCH. CRADLE OF A MOUNTAIN STREAM. Sketch by Alfred Lambourne.