Oh! Ancient lord of hall and stone,
Speak to me of they toils long,
Deep beneath the earth, and towering in the sky,
Learn me of they strength and tell me why,
Thou doth stay while all else doth pass thee by.

Who has wrought the power in thy mighty roots,
Crafted the elegance in thy lofty peaks,
And forged the endurance of thy undying life,
For tis not fair that legends fade and beauty die,
While thou dost live forever on and never know earthly strife.

Why do I live with pleasure forever sought,
Can I not be satisfied with my chosen lot,
You have no wants and only sit content in thy domain,
Yet I must toil everyday for that which I can never gain.

With knowledge such it angers me,
I must let loose a might cry,
If I was made as great as thee,
Why do mountains never die?

Yet even as my yell began to go,
I heard the earth begin to groan,
And then my heart began to choke,
For to my surprise the mountain spoke.

It told me of all it ever knew,
Of stone of old and tree that grew,
And it spoke of many things gone by,
But then it asked me with a heaving sigh,
"Why can I not see the sky?"

After some deep thought I gave a call,
You have not eyes with which to see,
To beasts and men this comes naturally,
Bit tis not the place of mountains tall,
To gaze upon the earth's beauty.

Then my answer came to me as bright as day,
I now knew why man must go and mountain stay,
So, I gave a cry upon the wind and let it grow,
Tis the place of man to dream and see,
And tis the place for a mountain, to live and know.


Penned by my hand on the 1st of Tenebrae, in the year 496 AD.