James Russell Lowell

Green Mountains

  Ye mountains, that far off lift up your heads,
  Seen dimly through their canopies of blue,
  The shade of my unrestful spirit sheds
  Distance-created beauty over you;
  I am not well content with this far view;
  How may I know what foot of loved-one treads
  Your rocks moss-grown and sun-dried torrent beds?
  We should love all things better, if we knew
  What claims the meanest have upon our hearts:
  Perchance even now some eye, that would be bright
  To meet my own, looks on your mist-robed forms;
  Perchance your grandeur a deep joy imparts
  To souls that have encircled mine with light--
  O brother-heart, with thee my spirit warms!