Classic Poem

Here , far above the noise and strife,
The dust and tumult of this life,
Many a pilgrim foot shall roam;
Many a worshipper shall come:
For mountain tops are holy ground.
'T is here the unseen God is found:
E'en they who come to laugh and play,
Shall stop to think, and learn to pray.
The winds that on this summit sing,
Ne'er breathed before on earthly thing.
Hush! utter no unhallowed word:
This is the temple of the Lord.
But see, around its awful brow,
Clouds have hung their drapery now:
Seas of mist without a shore,
Is all the wearied eyes explore.
A little while, and on our sight,
The sun will break in floods of light:
Behold the curtain slowly rise!
Disclosing to our wondering eyes,
A world all glowing at our feet,
With hue as bright, and smile as sweet,
As when from chaos first awoke,
It into life and beauty broke.
Who would not bear a stormy day,
To see the tempest break away?
Who would not to the mountain go,
To see this glorious scene below;
And with the mountain spirit hold
Communion sweet, but all untold?
For they who feel it most, will own
It dwells within the heart alone;
In rapture that finds language weak;
In gladness all too full to speak.