Fancy with prophetic glance
Sees the teeming months advance;
The field, the forest, green and gay;
The dappled slope, the tedded hay;
Sees the reddening orchard blow.
The harvest wave, the vintage flow. [ Warton ]

The great world's altar-stairs
That slope through darkness up to God. [ Tennyson ]

My garden is a forest ledge
Which older forests bound;
The banks slope down to the blue lake edge,
Then plunge to depths profound! [ Emerson ]