. The mountains about Williamstown . BERLIN MOUNTAIN, WITH WEST MOUNTAIN RANGE TO THE RIGHT Yon barren mount where only scrub-oaks growMay yield, at limes, a harvest for the soul.—Page 43 45 46 THe Mountains Abovit Williamsto-wn No thought could dream, no fancy sHp the linksOf logic, and wing off with childlike faithAnd poise oer mysteries too deep for it, not one poet would repeatHis empty echoes of lifes humdrum work,His rhythmic laughter of disburdened it, not one artist would essayTo mimic Nature when it molds to gemsIts melting worthlessness, or, like a wizar
. The mountains about Williamstown . BERLIN MOUNTAIN, WITH WEST MOUNTAIN RANGE TO THE RIGHT Yon barren mount where only scrub-oaks growMay yield, at limes, a harvest for the soul.—Page 43 45 46 THe Mountains Abovit Williamsto-wn No thought could dream, no fancy sHp the linksOf logic, and wing off with childlike faithAnd poise oer mysteries too deep for it, not one poet would repeatHis empty echoes of lifes humdrum work,His rhythmic laughter of disburdened it, not one artist would essayTo mimic Nature when it molds to gemsIts melting worthlessness, or, like a with its wand to welcome bubbling frothAnd turn to amber that which aimed for it, ah, without it, there would beNo life of life more grand by far than allThat worlds can outline or that minds conceive,-No wings to lift aloft our thrilling soulsAnd bear them on, unconscious how or why,Far past all limits of all earth-moved thoughtUntil, at last, they seem to reach the vergeOf heavens HOOSAC AND GREYLOCK RANGES FROM BEE HILL Beyond lite pHsoiis of this earth,Through opening gates, the free expanse of heaven.—Page 44 47 48 The Mountains About Williamsto-wn Meantime, confinedWhere only finite form can hint of whatInspires formation, many souls there are—Oh, may I join them!—who, in all things earthly,Behold what evermore transfigures scene can greet them but it brings to sightFar less than to suggestion; not a toneWhose harmony springs not from overtones;And not a partial stir but, like a registers what heart-beat moves the whole. So let this valley grow its flower and let the minds that fill the valley fareOn food they find in book and me the flowerless leaf, the fruitless branch,The mountain pushing up to scrub-oak and the rock—and, oh, the view!Away with work, and let me, free from care,Mount on and up!—No weak distractions now;
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidmountainsabo, bookyear1913
