Lone Mountain
This is that hill of awe That Persian Sindbad saw, The mount magnetic; And on its seaward face, Scattered along its base, The wrecks prophetic. Here come the argosies Blown by each idle breeze, To and fro shifting; Yet to the hill of Fate All drawing, soon or late, Day by day drifting; Drifting forever here Barks that for many a year Braved wind and weather; Shallops but yesterday Launched on yon shining bay, Drawn all together. This is the end of all: Sun thyself by the wall, O poorer Hindbad! Envy not Sindbads fame: Here come alike the same Hindbad and Sindbad.
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"This is that hill of awe..."
Bret Harte (Francis)'s contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Lone Mountain"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...