Blue Ranges Poem by George Sterling

Dim hills! (I cried.)
Mountains of azure delicate and far,
Home of the setting star,
What mystery and loveliness you hide!

A nameless light
Falls, wildly, on these woods and fields and streams,
A land of dusk and dreams
And happiness delaying in its flight.

There marbles shine,
Broken or not, and whiter by the tree
The dryad waits for me-
Wreathing her forehead with a scarlet vine.

Oh! swiftly I
Shall hasten from these narrow, dusty ways
To where enchanted days
Lift, fearlessly, their music to the sky . . . .

I reached at last
Those hills of dream, to find them lone and bleak,
Snows on the noblest peak,
And graves that told but of the beauty passed.

I turned my glance
To that far plain so grey to me before:
O land of Nevermore ,
Now purple with the twilight of romance!