Ye mountains of majesty, I have heard thy call. So here I am again, an anonymous, insignificant passing morsel of humanity.
What mortal bliss as I stand 'neath this scented pine, and zephyrs your fragrant agents tell me that you have touched my woodlands with your floral scepter.
I stand and you reveal yet another of your splendours. As sunset tints my beloved zenith, and all things are hushed; you begin your vigil to keep yours safe, and to rejuvinate life once more.
So you send a golden mist over everything and I feel it soothing me, a comfort, a radiance enveloping my mind and soul, seeping through to the immortal part of me.
For you, oh verdant sentinels have endured mans onslaught, his modernization and mechanization.
You have been since ages unknown and with all my being, I wish you to be for aeons more.
I gaze and am envious of the colours I see before me. The wild roses and rhodedendrons, geraniums and violets, buttercups and anemones - these are your secrets; hid twit craggy clefts and stony paths. Would that you would garb me such!
Mountains, my heart will always be with you and my spirit ever rove in spring and summer midst your dales and in snow clad winter shall I explore your wonders with the leopards.
My mountains, I have sought for peace and roved this restless world.
Now I know that none but you can give it.
So mountains, my mountains as heimweih pulls again; I prithee when my time is come, give me but a small, safe place in your bosom and let me be but an infinitesmal part of all that I see and love -- of you.