mountains - Popular Poems and stories from category

Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head

Ye mountains, on whose torrent-furrowed slopes,
And bare and silent brows uplift to heaven,
I envied oft the soul which fills your
Of pure and stern sublime, and still

Mountain flowers open in our faces
You and I are triply lost in wine
I’m drunk, my friend, sleepy
Rise and go

The Valley's full of misty cloud, Its tinted beauty drowning,
The Eucalypti roar aloud, The mountain fronts are frowning
The mist is hanging like a pall From many granite ledges,
And many a little waterfall Starts o’er the valley’s ...

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold