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.
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