In Tuolumne Meadows

I Love to sit in the

And watch the foaming

Leap over its granite bed.

I love these days that run On a burnished golden dial With the blue sky overhead.

I love to waken at

And whisper the stars above me,

And feel the fingering breeze.

So still is the world, so right,

Where even the black pines love me,

And the white moon guards my ease.

I love the upward

To the sun-tipped crest of the

High over the billowy world;

Where the wind sings hymns of praise,

And the snows break into fountains,

And life is a flag unfurled.

I love—ah, beloved, what bliss Would shatter the ice like a river And sing all the way to the sea,

If the world could be lost for this,

And you from your sorrow forever Could rest on the heart of me !