Loveliest and purest Nymph of the mountains,
Cradled in rock and fed by the fountains,
But like some bold hoyden at play!
Behold her wild run as she leaps down a rock!
(Some earthquake river boulder or block)
And is there dashed into spray!
Hark! it's the roar of a wild cataract.
My heart throbs while I in wonder look back,
Up a dark glen wierd and wild,
Twixt rock-cliffs lofty and hoary,
And now I see what? This nymph in her glory ---
She is Nature's fairest, spoiled child
Robed in a veil of mist she leaps into a pool,
That is breezy and pure, shady and cool;
She rests there awhile,
'Til joined by many a sister and brother
She starts on her way home to her mother,
With filial devotion.
And passing Mount Lookout many a mile,
There looms to her view a palm-covered isle,
Where she meets Mother Ocean.
(Silas McDowell, Asheville Citizen, August 5, 1875)