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74 OTHER VERSE |
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MOUNT OF THE HOLY CROSS.
Where Nature's God hath roughest wrought
Where spring the purest fountains;
Where, long ago, the Titans fought,
And hurled, for missiles, mountains;
Where everlasting snows abide,
And tempest clouds are driven
Along the solid granite side
Of yawning chasms, riven
Deep in the Rockies' grandest pride,
That lifts its head to Heaven ;
Amid the wilds, where awful rise
The giant peaks that fathom
Night's starry depths and day's blue skies,
And brood above the chasm,
One monarch 'mongst the mighty hills
Rears high his summit hoary,
Like some grim king, whose legend fills
A page of olden story,
And heart o'erawes and soul enthrills,
Before his regal glory.
The Holy Cross of Christian faith, Above the royal velvet, In beauty shines, an emblem wraith, High on his beetling helmet; |
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