KEARSARGE.9
O lift thy head, thou mountain lone,
And mate thee with the sun!
Thy rosy clouds are valeward blown,
Thy stars that near at midnight shone
Gone heavenward one by one,
And half of earth, and half of air,
Thou risest vast and gray and bare
And mate thee with the sun!
Thy rosy clouds are valeward blown,
Thy stars that near at midnight shone
Gone heavenward one by one,
And half of earth, and half of air,
Thou risest vast and gray and bare
And crowned with glory. Far southwest
Monadnock sinks to see,
For all its trees and towering crest
And clear Contoocook from its breast
Poured down for wood and lea,
How statelier still, through frost and dew,
Thy granite cleaves the distant blue.
Monadnock sinks to see,
For all its trees and towering crest
And clear Contoocook from its breast
Poured down for wood and lea,
How statelier still, through frost and dew,
Thy granite cleaves the distant blue.
And high to north, from fainter sky,
Franconia's cliffs look down;
Home to their crags the eagles fly,
Deep in their caves the echoes die,
The sparkling waters frown,
And the Great Face that guards the glen
Pales with the pride of mortal men.
Franconia's cliffs look down;
Home to their crags the eagles fly,
Deep in their caves the echoes die,
The sparkling waters frown,
And the Great Face that guards the glen
Pales with the pride of mortal men.
