On The Mountains Poem by Henry Vanderford

Written after a visit to Rawley Springs, in the mountains of
Virginia.

On the mountains! Oh, how sweet!
The busy world beneath my feet!
Outspread before my raptur'd eyes
The wide unbounded prospect lies;
The panoramic vision glows
In beauty, grandeur and repose.
I gaze into the vaulted blue
And on the em'rald fields below;
The genial sunlight shimmers down
Upon the mountain's rugged crown,
The eye sweeps round the horizon
Until its utmost verge is won.
The hoary peaks, with forests crown'd,
Spread their vast solitudes around,
And intervening rocks and rills
The eye with very transport fills.
The bosom wells with joy serene
While viewing all the lovely scene,
The spirit soars on airy wings
Above all sublunary things.
I peer into the depths profound
Of the cerulean around,
And ether's far-off heights I scan,
As if, to feeble finite man,
The power of vision here were given
To view the battlements of heaven.
But, though I gaze and gaze intent,
Close scanning all the firmament,
No Mount of Vision unto me
Does this bold summit prove to be.
Though in elysian wrapt the while,
Where sublimated thoughts beguile,
Icarian pinions, all too frail,
Were sure my fancy's flight to fail.
Confined within this mortal clod,
Vain man would yet ascend to God,
Presumptuous, as of yore, to be
The heir of immortality.
But, from those fair, celestial heights
Of fervid fancy's loftiest flights,
My airy visions topple down
To where cool reason's realm is found,
And fancy folds her weary wings,
Content, the while, with earthly things.