Oh, mountain monarch, at whose feet I stand,--
Clouds to adorn thy brow, skies clasp thy hand,--
Nature divine, in harmony profound,
With peaceful presence hath begirt thee round.

And thou, majestic oak, from yon high place
Guard'st thou the earth, asleep in night's embrace,--
And from thy lofty summit, pouring down
Thy sheltering shade, her noonday glories crown?

Whate'er thy mission, mountain sentinel,
To my lone heart thou art a power and spell;
A lesson grave, of life, that teacheth me
To love the Hebrew figure of a tree.

Faithful and patient be my life as thine;
As strong to wrestle with the storms of time;
As deeply rooted in a soil of love;
As grandly rising to the heavens above.