No one who has beheld the majestic mountain grandeur of Northern Washington County can fail to appreciate the beauty of the following lines.
Some sing of life in cities fair,
Some sing of homes in valleys green.
Some sing of pleasures on the beach,
Where wealth and gayeties are seen.
But I will sing of grandest scenes
That ever met the human eye,
Of forests green, of crystal streams,
Of turrets reaching to the sky.
Give me the grand old mountain range,
Their lofty summits crowned with snow,
Their canyons weird, grand and strange,
Through which the crystal fountains flow.
Their evergreen, their shady groves,
The feathered songsters' loved retreat,
The flowers of every hue that blows
And sweetly nestles at their feet.
I could not live in vales below:
The wild and weird scenes so rife
That cluster round those peaks of snow
Are interwoven with my life.
The lordly elk, the timid deer,
That graze upon the foliage there,
The eagle, bird that knows no fear,
With freedom cleaves the mountain air.
Far up among those rocky peaks
The mountain goat, with fearless tread,
From crag to crag, with nimble feet,
Leaps free, with neither fear or dread.
Amidst those craggy snow-crowned peaks
That glisten in the morning air,
A home the fearless eagle seeks,
And safely builds his eyrie there.
I know the meaning now of Tell,
Who rushed outstretched arms to greet
His mountain home where freedom dwells,
Nor fears the tread of tyrants feet.
And when my work of life shall cease,
And I on earth no more shall dwell,
May I forever rest in peace
Amidst those scenes I love so well.