MOUNTAINS by LAURA BULMER

I would not live where the prairies lie,
Far to the east and the west,
With never along the rim of the sky,
The curve of a mountain's crest.

For I have seen in the evening glow,
The sun on Whitney's spires;
And watched on Shasta's lasting snow,
The light of the morning's fires.

And I have looked on high blue lakes
Bright in the morning sun,
And followed the turns the canyon takes,
Where the rushing waters run.

So I would travel long and far
To come to the mountains again,
For one who has lived where mountains are
Could not be at home on the plain.

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