Among the Foot-Hills of the Rockies / Mary Electa Adams

Among the Foot-Hills of the Rockies 

Come, let us walk. 'Tis of the summer day —
The long, long summer day — the lingering afternoon,
And Nature here has phases all her own
I would not miss. Swift swings the river down
From yonder towering two-leaved mountain gates,
O'erhung with drapery of rose and pearl,
Past winding slopes, along the valley's length,
In deep concealment now, now flashing by,
Contemptuous of delay, flinging a kiss
In passing; lost at length in hazy light.
What hands have levelled all those terraces
That look upon his course ? Now see aloft
Where swaths of shadow fall and slide
Among the gold upon the dimpled hills,
Cadenced in their vast and rhythmic sweep,
By hollows and by seams that once were filled
With rushing torrents. See! see how they lie
Fold upon fold, in cycles of the past,
Or wind- or wave-swept into glorious shapes,
And piled against the azure of the heavens.
These undulating lines, like silenced 'Waves
Taken in mid-course of their unrivalled leap,
To fix forever their unresting course,
Seem to my eyes, in the calm evenings, still
To palpitate away into the moving sky.

~~
Mary Electa Adams (1823-1896)
from From Distant Shores, 1898

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

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