MONADNOCK calls the winds from peak to sea — The clarion north wind and the full-choired west — And bids the streams their cliff-born melody Blend with the airy chants above his rest; And wakes the pines to hymn his hundred years In the weird symphonies he loved so well; And listens — if perchance from starry spheres Some echo of a kindred song should swell. Poet whose lofty quest no creed could bar; To whom the secret springs of life were known; One with the wild rose and the evening star; The mountain and the mart alike thy throne; — For thee, from Nature's myriad voices now And the deep heart of man, ascends a pæan: Pan was not closer to the earth than thou, Nor Plato nearer to the empyrean! |