How these great towering mountains

Hold me close!

I dwell in sheltered crook of a warm arm

Raised gently from the loving Earth,

As though I am her child

She guards from every harm.

What precious flow of dawn-and-sunset

Paint down canyon sides!

What sturdy bravery of wind-bent pines

That will climb up and up.

What incense of rare mist!

And all belongs to me!