The Mountains

The Mountains.
223.6

I saw the mountains stand
Silent, wonderful and grand,
Looking out across the land
When the golden light was falling
On distant dome and spire,
And I heard a low voice calling:
“Come up higher, come up higher.
From the lowland and the mire,
From the mist of earth desire,
From the vain pursuit of pelf,
From the attitude of self;
Come up higher, come up higher-
Think not that we are cold,
Though eternal snows have crowned us:
Underneath our breasts of snow
Silver fountains sing and flow,
And restore the hungry lands.
-James G. Clark,