Ah! solemn mountain at whose feet I stand,
Clouds do adorn thy brow, skies clasp thy hand;
Nature and God, in harmony profound,
With peaceful presence have begirt thee round.
And thou majestic oak, from yon high place
Guard'st thou the earth, asleep in night's embrace?
Or from thy lofty summit, pouring down
Thy sheltering shade, her noonday glories crown?
Whate'er thy mission, mountain sentinel,
O'er my lone heart thou hast a magic spell;
A lesson grave, of life, thou teachest me—
I love the Hebrew figure of a tree.
Faithful and patient be my years as thine;
As strong to wrestle with the storms of time;
As deeply rooted in a soil of love;
As grandly rising to the heavens above.
