I own no park I keep no horse,
I can’t afford a stable,
I have no cellar stored with wine,
I set a frugal table;
But still some property is mine,
Enough to suit my notion:
I own a mountain toward the west
And toward the east an ocean.
Just this one mountain and one sea
Are property enough for me.
A man of moderate circumstance,
A frugal man, like me,
With one good mountain has enough,
Enough with one good sea.
My mountain stretches high enough,
Up where the clouds are curled;
My ocean puts its arms around
The bottom of the world.
I do not fear my sea will dry;
My hill will last as long as I.
I cannot glibly talk with men,
No gift of tongues have I:
My sea and mountain talk to me,
Expecting no reply.
They tell me tales I may not tell,
But tales of cosmic worth,
Of conclaves of the early gods
Who ruled the infant earth;
Tales of an unremembered prime
Told by Eternity to Time.
And so I’m glad the mountain’s mine,
I’m glad I own the sea,
That they have special privacies
Which they impart to me.
It took eternity to learn
The tales they know so well,
And I am glad these tales will take
Eternity to tell.
I do not fear my sea will dry;
My hill will last as long as I.
