I love my native mountains, The dear old Cumberland, Rockribbed and everlasting, How great they are, and grand! I love each skyward reaching peak, Each glassy glade and dale, Each moss-and-fern-clad precipice Each lovely flower decked vale. I love each vine-hung rocky glen I love each dark ravine Though there may hide the catamount And wild dog sly and mean. I love my mountains' forests Varied and beautiful I love her springs and waterfalls, So pure and wonderful. I love her richly plumaged birds The pheasant and the jay, The merry scarlet tanager, The woodpeck bright and gay. How oft among these mountains Has the silvery music clear From the lark's throat cheered the traveler, And the honest mountaineer. But more than these old mountains Which with wonder I revere I love with true devotion The people who live here. So here's with love sincere and dear For her sons of brawn and worth; And her daughters pure and lovely, The fairest types of earth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NORTH WINTER by HAYDEN CARRUTH A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SOTTO VOCE; TO EDWARD THOMAS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE SONNET: DANTE (1) by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 74. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER (OLD & NEW ART) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IF THE POETS HAD FEARED THE ADVERTISERS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS FROM A YOUNG WOMAN TO AN OLD OFFICER WHO COURTED HER by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST |