my mountain.
39
Now rose-tints bloom from the purple;
Now the blue climbs over the green;
Now, bright in its bath of sunshine,
The whole grand Shape is seen.
Now the blue climbs over the green;
Now, bright in its bath of sunshine,
The whole grand Shape is seen.
Is it one, or unnumbered summits,—
The Vision so high, so fair,
Hanging over the singing River
In the magical depths of air?
The Vision so high, so fair,
Hanging over the singing River
In the magical depths of air?
Ask not the name of my mountain!
Let it rise in its grandeur lone;
Be it one of a mighty thousand,
Or a thousand blent in one.
Let it rise in its grandeur lone;
Be it one of a mighty thousand,
Or a thousand blent in one.
Would a name evoke new splendor
From its wrapping and folds of light,
Or a line of the weird rock-writing
Make plainer to mortal sight?
From its wrapping and folds of light,
Or a line of the weird rock-writing
Make plainer to mortal sight?
You have lived and learnt this marvel:
That the holiest joy that came
From its beautiful heaven to bless you, (['
Nor needed nor found a name.
That the holiest joy that came
From its beautiful heaven to bless you, (['
Nor needed nor found a name.
