| YE snow-capped mountains, basking in the sun, | |
| Like fleecy clouds that deck the summer skies, | |
| On you I gaze, when day’s dull task is done, | |
| Till night shuts out your glories from my eyes. | |
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| For stormy turmoil, and ambition’s strife, | 5 |
| I find in you a solace and a balm,— | |
| Derive a higher purpose, truer life, | |
| From your pale splendor, passionless and calm. | |
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| Mellowed by distance, all your rugged cliffs, | |
| And deep ravines, in graceful outlines lie; | 10 |
| Each giant form in silent grandeur lifts | |
| Its hoary summit to the evening sky. | |
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| I reck not of the wealth untold, concealed | |
| Beneath your glorious coronal of snows, | |
| Whose budding treasure yet but scarce revealed, | 15 |
| Should blossom into trade—a golden rose. | |
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| A mighty realm is waking at your feet | |
| To life and beauty, from the lap of Time, | |
| With cities vast, where millions yet shall meet, | |
| And Peace shall reign in majesty sublime. | 20 |
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| Rock-ribbed Sierras, with your crests of snow, | |
| A type of manhood, ever strong and true, | |
| Whose heart with golden wealth should ever glow, | |
| Whose thoughts in purity should symbol you. | |
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