The Mountaineer 
GLACIER PEAK. 
Epmonp S. MEANY. 
Thou somber king on throne of granite, 
A pilgrim knocks at rock-strewn gate, 
Thy hingeless gate at guarded palace, 
Behold! I climb, I watch, | watt. 
Was t weak to fear thy storm-swept kingdom, 
To fear and flee thy ice-chilled roar, 
In awe to wave a feeble gesture 
Tow'rd heights where boldest eagles soar? 
I do not boast a heart of valor; 
No upward march of conquest mine; 
I slowly creep up storm-carved canyon;— 
Uncovered stand, a child of thine. 
Then up thy walls I climb and clamber, 
O’er thy glist’ning snowfields plod; 
I come in humble love and yearning 
More truth from thee, new thoughts of God. 
I see thee clutch the sea-born vapors, 
Then swirl and hurl through canvons steep. 
Ah, whip and lash them, cloud-land furv, 
No respite give but frozen sleep! 
All captive here, thy conquered victims 
Await release in years to be. 
How cleanly gleam thy ice-locked rivers! 
How slowly wind they tow’rd the sea! 
Sheer lifts the ridge that parts the pathways 
From swinging clouds to lands below, 
Ave parts the ways through plains or forests, 
The ways thy garnered streams must flow. 
