Nevada, desert, waste,
Mighty, and inhospitable, and stern;
Hiding a meaning over which we yearn
In eager, panting haste,
Grasping and losing,
Still being deluded ever by our choosing,
Answer us Sphinx: What is thy meaning double
But endless toil and trouble?
Inscrutable, men strive
To rend thy secret from thy rocky breast;
Breaking their hearts, and periling heaven's rest
For hopes that cannot thrive;
Whilst unrelenting,
From thy unlovely throne, and unrepenting,
Thou sittest, basking in a fervid sun,
Seeing or hearing none.
I sit beneath thy stars,
The shallop moon beached on a bank of clouds,
And see thy mountains wrapped in shadowy shrouds,
Glad that the darkness bars
The day's suggestion—
The endless repetition of one question;
Glad that thy stony face I cannot see,
Nevada—Mystery!
Shermantown, Nev., 1869.
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