Beautiful Isles! Beneath The Sunset Skies Tall,

Come When The Rains Have Glazed The Snow And Clothed The Trees With Ice, While The Slant Sun Of February Pours Into The Bowers A Flood Of Light. Approach! The Incrusted Surface Shall Upbear Thy Steps And The Broad Arching Portals Of The Grove Welcome Thy Entering.

Thou Who Wouldst See The Lovely And The Wild Mingled In Harmony On Nature's Face, Ascend Our Rocky Mountains. Let Thy Foot Fail Not With Weariness, For On Their Tops The Beauty And The Majesty Of Earth, Spread Wide Beneath, Shall Make Thee To Forget The Steep And Toilsome Way.

Oh, Constellations Of The Early Night That Sparkled Brighter As The Twilight Died, And Made The Darkness Glorious! I Have Seen Your Rays Grow Dim Upon The Horizon's Edge And Sink Behind The Mountains. I Have Seen The Great Orion, With His Jewelled Belt, That Large-limbed Warrior Of The Skies, Go Down Into The Gloom. Beside Him Sank A Crowd Of Shining Ones.

Where Are The Flowers, The Fair Young Flowers, That Lately Sprang And Stood In Brighter Light And Softer Airs, A Beauteous Sisterhood?

The February Sunshine Steeps Your Boughs And Tints The Buds And Swells The Leaves Within.