| |
| A FRIENDLY mountain I know; | |
| As I lie on the green slope there | |
| It sets my heart in a glow | |
| And closes the door on care. | |
| |
| A thought I try to frame— | 5 |
| I was with you long ago; | |
| My soul from your heart out-came; | |
| Mountain, is that not so? | |
| |
| Take me again, dear hills, | |
| Open the door to me | 10 |
| Where the magic murmur thrills | |
| The halls I do not see, | |
| |
| The halls and caverns deep; | |
| Though sometimes I may dare | |
| Down the twilight stairs of sleep | 15 |
| To meet the kingly there. | |
| |
| Sometimes on flaming wings | |
| I sit upon a throne | |
| And watch how the great star swings | |
| Along the sapphire zone. | 20 |
| |
| It has wings of its own for flight, | |
| Diamond its pinions strong, | |
| Glories of opal and white, | |
| I watch the whole night long. | |
| |
| Until I needs must lay | 25 |
| My royal robes aside | |
| To toil in a world of grey, | |
| Grey shadows by my side. | |
| |
| And when I ponder it o’er | |
| Grey memories only bide, | 30 |
| But their fading lips tell more | |
| Than all the world beside. | |
| |
