How these great towering mountains
Hold me close!
I dwell in sheltered crook of a warm arm
Raised gently from the loving Earth,
As though I am her child
She guards from every harm.
What precious flow of dawn-and-sunset
Paint down canyon sides!
What sturdy bravery of wind-bent pines
That will climb up and up.
What incense of rare mist!
And all belongs to me!
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