The Mountain Majestic mountain, crowned with snow, Thy summit kisses heaven’s face, To thee, my weary heart doth go, To find in silence, peace and grace.

Thy rocky cliffs defy the age, Each boulder tells a tale of time, A memory set, an open page, In nature’s book, both soft and prime.

I wander through thy verdant trails, Where shadows merge with sunlit glade, And crisp inhalations sail With fragrances the earth hath made.

For in thy presence, strong and wide, The vastness steals away my breath, Within thy arms, all fears abide, As life and love are born in death.

— Excerpt from “The Mountain” (not an actual poem of Melville)

• Herman Melville