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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408430" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To a Mountain</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To thee, O father of the stately peaks, <br>Above me in the loftier light -- to thee, <br>Imperial brother of those awful hills <br>Whose feet are set in splendid spheres of flame, <br>Whose heads are where the gods are, and whose sides <br>Of strength are belted round with all the zones <br>Of all the world, I dedicate these songs. <br>And if, within the compass of this book, <br>There lives and glows ONE verse in which there beats <br>The pulse of wind and torrent -- if ONE line <br>Is here that like a running water sounds, <br>And seems an echo from the lands of leaf, <br>Be sure that line is thine. Here, in this home, <br>Away from men and books and all the schools, <br>I take thee for my Teacher. In thy voice <br>Of deathless majesty, I, kneeling, hear <br>God's grand authentic Gospel! Year by year, <br>The great sublime cantata of thy storm <br>Strikes through my spirit -- fills it with a life <br>Of startling beauty! Thou my Bible art <br>With holy leaves of rock, and flower, and tree, <br>And moss, and shining runnel. From each page <br>That helps to make thy awful volume, I <br>Have learned a noble lesson. In the psalm <br>Of thy grave winds, and in the liturgy <br>Of singing waters, lo! my soul has heard <br>The higher worship; and from thee, indeed, <br>The broad foundations of a finer hope <br>Were gathered in; and thou hast lifted up <br>The blind horizon for a larger faith! <br>Moreover, walking in exalted woods <br>Of naked glory, in the green and gold <br>Of forest sunshine, I have paused like one <br>With all the life transfigured: and a flood <br>Of light ineffable has made me feel <br>As felt the grand old prophets caught away <br>By flames of inspiration; but the words <br>Sufficient for the story of my Dream <br>Are far too splendid for poor human lips! <br>But thou, to whom I turn with reverent eyes -- <br>O stately Father, whose majestic face <br>Shines far above the zone of wind and cloud, <br>Where high dominion of the morning is -- <br>Thou hast the Song complete of which my songs <br>Are pallid adumbrations! Certain sounds <br>Of strong authentic sorrow in this book <br>May have the sob of upland torrents -- these, <br>And only these, may touch the great World's heart; <br>For, lo! they are the issues of that grief <br>Which makes a man more human, and his life <br>More like that frank exalted life of thine. <br>But in these pages there are other tones <br>In which thy large, superior voice is not -- <br>Through which no beauty that resembles thine <br>Has ever shone. THESE are the broken words <br>Of blind occasions, when the World has come <br>Between me and my Dream. No song is here <br>Of mighty compass; for my singing robes <br>I've worn in stolen moments. All my days <br>Have been the days of a laborious life, <br>And ever on my struggling soul has burned <br>The fierce heat of this hurried sphere. But thou, <br>To whose fair majesty I dedicate <br>My book of rhymes -- thou hast the perfect rest <br>Which makes the heaven of the highest gods! <br>To thee the noises of this violent time <br>Are far, faint whispers; and, from age to age, <br>Within the world and yet apart from it, <br>Thou standest! Round thy lordly capes the sea <br>Rolls on with a superb indifference <br>For ever; in thy deep, green, gracious glens <br>The silver fountains sing for ever. Far <br>Above dim ghosts of waters in the caves, <br>The royal robe of morning on thy head <br>Abides for ever! Evermore the wind <br>Is thy august companion; and thy peers <br>Are cloud, and thunder, and the face sublime <br>Of blue mid-heaven! On thy awful brow <br>Is Deity; and in that voice of thine <br>There is the great imperial utterance <br>Of God for ever; and thy feet are set <br>Where evermore, through all the days and years, <br>There rolls the grand hymn of the deathless wave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Kendall">Henry Kendall</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408430" data-title="To a Mountain de Henry Kendall" data-description="To thee, O father of the stately peaks, 
Above me in the loftier light -- to thee, 
Imperial brother of those awful hills 
Whose feet are set in splendid spheres of flame, 
Whose heads are where the gods are, and whose sides 
Of strength are belte..."></div>
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