The Blue Ridge

Harriet Monroe

Still and calm, 
In purple robes of kings, 
The low-lying mountains sleep at the edge of the world. 
The forests cover them like mantles; 
Day and night 
Rise and fall over them like the wash of waves. 

Asleep, they reign. 
Silent, they say all. 
Hush me, O slumbering mountains — 
Send me dreams.