The mountain's spine does shiver
At the first kiss of the quake,
And the wayward roving river
Sends a shudder through the lake;
The birth of Spring plays fanfare
To rouse the fledgling flowers;
And thee, embraced, released despair
That trembled from thy towers.

What shook thy strong foundations,
Like a quake unto the mountain?
Were thy wayward contemplations
Like the lake unto a fountain?
As Winter spreads her wedding gown
And the weary flowers wither,
Let thee embrace thy walls of stone
And what peace they may deliver.