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| WE ’ve journeyed through the mountains. There they stand | |
| Broad-based, majestic in a grand repose, | |
| Some three leagues westward. Longmont welcomes us; | |
| And while we rest this balmy summer eve | |
| At hospitable thresholds, all the sky, | 5 |
| As if to consecrate our holiday, | |
| And make our precious memories more dear, | |
| Puts on unwonted glory; and our eyes, | |
| Like those of Moses in the mount, are smit | |
| With sudden splendor. For the sinking sun, | 10 |
| Hidden, is not repressed, but pours its light | |
| Upward and far aslant on flocks of cloud. | |
| Along the clear horizon’s narrow rim, | |
| Down the great gulfs of everlasting rock, | |
| O’er shining peaks, the distant Snowy Range, | 15 |
| And Long’s high crown, while all the nearer hills | |
| In tender shadow watch the miracle. | |
| Spread to the right, and gleaming fold on fold, | |
| Vermilion, saffron, pink, and pearly white, | |
| The gorgeous banners of the clouds are flung, | 20 |
| Waving and tossing in resplendent surge, | |
| Above yon belt of deep, delicious sky, | |
| Whose liquid opal perfect, passionless, | |
| Runs to a field of luminous emerald, | |
| Broidered with marvellous fringe of crimson fire. | 25 |
| More southward, fleecy draperies touched with rose | |
| Float on the air, and here and there droop low | |
| Upon the shoulders of the purple peaks. | |
| O’erhead the arrows of the hidden sun | |
| Flash, now and then, on cliffs of ragged cloud; | 30 |
| And plumes of radiance, like strange tropic birds, | |
| Flit through the open spaces of the blue. | |
| High up amid the awful gaps of rock, | |
| Between the ranges, a soft sea of bloom,— | |
| The lustrous pollen of this sunset-flower,— | 35 |
| Throbs wave on wave against the granite shore. | |
| Wondrous the billows of this golden mist, | |
| Sweet, tender, lucent, as if purest dews | |
| Of Paradise had washed the starry sheen | |
| From heaven’s choicest blossoms, and poured all | 40 |
| Into the porphyry basin of the mount, | |
| A perfect incense to the unseen God. | |
| Unasked we join the worship of the hour, | |
| Breathless with indescribable applause. | |
| The sacred spell of Beauty on us lies, | 45 |
| And power that dwells in Light’s essential throne, | |
| And Love in which all that is good is born. | |
| The curtains of the glowing deep are drawn, | |
| And through the vista, garlanded with gold, | |
| O’er amethystine herbage, lawns of rose, | 50 |
| Pure streams where lilies of the angels blow, | |
| Far toward the sightless glory of the Lord, | |
| Our hearts are borne in measureless content, | |
| Renewed and resting on the Infinite! | |
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