OLD CLOUD'S REST
Inspired by a vast panorama of snow-clad and sun-kissed granite peaks in the Yosemite Valley, of which Cloud's Rest (5912 feet) is the highest.
How proud you rear your haughty crest,
And snow-clad, frown on heights below;
Tho' humbler, they like you are drest
In mantles of eternal snow.
Old Cloud's Rest!
And snow-clad, frown on heights below;
Tho' humbler, they like you are drest
In mantles of eternal snow.
Old Cloud's Rest!
Five thousand feet you climb the skies,
And view your sisters with disdain—
Yet seismic powers that bade you rise
May level you to dust again!
Old Cloud's Rest!
And view your sisters with disdain—
Yet seismic powers that bade you rise
May level you to dust again!
Old Cloud's Rest!
With selfish pride your crystal brow
You vaunt, yet ere the world is dead
Those lesser peaks, inferior now,
May shoot above your braggart head!
Old Cloud's Rest!
You vaunt, yet ere the world is dead
Those lesser peaks, inferior now,
May shoot above your braggart head!
Old Cloud's Rest!
El Capitan, and Half-Dome's height,
May some day as superiors stand;
And Royal Arches may invite
A fame that you can ne'er command.
Old Cloud's Rest!
May some day as superiors stand;
And Royal Arches may invite
A fame that you can ne'er command.
Old Cloud's Rest!
Why boast so loud of dizzy fame,
When hoary Star-King, by your side,
A rival eminence can claim,
And mock you in your empty pride?
Old Cloud's Rest!
When hoary Star-King, by your side,
A rival eminence can claim,
And mock you in your empty pride?
Old Cloud's Rest!
Go view yon blest Cathedral Spires,
Whose beauty wakes the Muses' praise;
For you chant no such lyric choirs—
No lute to you devotes its lays.
Old Cloud's Rest!
Whose beauty wakes the Muses' praise;
For you chant no such lyric choirs—
No lute to you devotes its lays.
Old Cloud's Rest!
List to the song those neighbors woke
In lyric splendor from the heart
Of him whose magic accents spoke
The fervor of Aonian art!
Old Cloud's Rest!
In lyric splendor from the heart
Of him whose magic accents spoke
The fervor of Aonian art!
Old Cloud's Rest!
"No foot hath pressed those stairways dizzy,
No hand hath touched those silent bells;
No mortal sacristan is busy—
Silence alone the story tells."
Cathedral Spires!
No hand hath touched those silent bells;
No mortal sacristan is busy—
Silence alone the story tells."
Cathedral Spires!
"That realm, untrod, save by the spirits,
Whose mortal forms rest 'neath the sod,
They only have the power to hear its
Sweet crystal sounds—the Chimes of God."
Cathedral Spires!
Whose mortal forms rest 'neath the sod,
They only have the power to hear its
Sweet crystal sounds—the Chimes of God."
Cathedral Spires!
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