That, far from the haunts of man,
The wild goat seeks.

O, that day above the clouds
Was bright and fair!
With pines and the sparkling snow
Unsullied there;

But, a thousand fathoms down
A city street
Was shrouded in sunless gloom
Where shadows meet;

It knew not the fairer day
And matchless view;
That snowfields gleamed above
And skies were blue:

That the clouds which gloomed below
Were seas of light
From another point of view
At greater height.




Winter Sunset in the Cascade Range

Picture a world of snowfields
Aglow in the sunset light,