There is peace in the mountains
Distilled slowly from icicle fountains
With sounds waiting to be sung
From frigid beams in God’s bower hung...
High in the clouds is a dream of a place
Lifted far and above mankind’s rat race
Where troubles cannot go
Evil winds cannot seeds
Of discontent sow
Where tides of war cannot flow...
The high mountains are a place
Where troubles are left behind
A world’s worries can never find
Cannot even exist
In purified air subsist
For in the mountains
Justice is not decided by mights fist.
A mountain’s bounty
Goes to the swift and sure
In modest air demure.
Troubles left in valley’s below
Are not here missed
In pure heaven’s distilled myst
In rarified air by mountain sun kissed.
Here only the purest droplets of life exude
In rocks and forested hills
Prevention of bitter winds preclude...
In a frigid pure, rocky mountain solitude
For in the relentless winds that blow stiff
And cold in your face
From blustering gusts on a rocky mountain cliff
Are pure mountains frigid
Far removed from the race.
Mountains are a hallowed place
For with every step there
You feel abiding warmth in your soul there
Of God’s loving