"It was the hour of morning service, and nature here seemed yielding silent worship:
'But the sound of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard;
Ne'er sighed at the sound of a knell,
Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared.'
A soft, sighing wind swept down the canon, and mournful murmurs issued from the rocky side-crevices, which doubtless spoke often to the Indian as the spirits of his fathers, calling from the happy hunting grounds. The Greek poet would have heard in them the moanings of imprisoned souls seeking release from their rocky dungeons; but to the christian the whole scene brings to solemn remembrance the time when 'He stood and measured the earth; the everlasting mountains were scattered; the perpetual hills did bow.'"
J. H. Beadly 1868