Invites us to the mountains—God’s eminent domain.
Oh, soul below in the valley where aspirations rise
No higher than the plunging of water fowl that flies,
Come up into the mountains—come up into the blue;
Leave weary leagues behind you the lowland’s meaner view,
The autumn’s rotting verdure, the sapless grasses browned,
Come where the snows are lilies that bloom the whole year round.
Here in the subtle spirit of all these climbing hills,
Man may achieve his dreaming, and be the thing he wills.”
—Joseph Dana Miller.