God's wilderness is calling me
To shining summits, bright and cool;
The mountain trails from snow are free,
The flashing trout are in the pool.
All winter long, the lure and spell
Of glittering lakes and towering trees,
Of rushing streams and pine-tree smell
And flowering meadows haunted me.
Of all the peace on earth there's none
Like evening in my camp-fire's gleam,
No shrine like God's own starlit dome
Nor wine like water from my stream.
What song like sylvan solitude
Stirred softly by the snow-kissed breeze,
Or water-ouzel's sweet notes tuned
To swirling stream's glad melodies?
Lure of Sierra, wild and free,
Jewels deep set in shining skies,
Defiant mountains beckon me
To glory and dream in their paradise.
Walter A. Starr, Jr.
July, 1933
