I SAT upon a windy mountain height,
On a huge rock outstanding from the rest;
The sun had sunk behind a neighboring crest,
Leaving chill shade; but looking down, my sight
Beheld the vale still bathed in his warm light
And of the perfect peace of eve possessed,
No wave upon the forest on its breast
And all its park-like glades with sunshine bright.
It put me into mind of the old age
Of one who leaves ambitions rocks and peaks
To those inhabited by nobler rage,
And still existence in lifes valleys seeks;
His is the peaceful eve; but then one hour
Of mountain life is worthy his twenty four.
Sunset On The Cunimbla Valley, Blue Mountains
written byDouglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen
© Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen