Follow me into mountains grey
To farther from pastoral bray.
With rocks so rough and cliffs so sheer
We good-bye sheep and usher deer.

How hard it is to escape a land of old,
But I find refuge in the mountains cold.

Under the moon, the highland bears its mist;
This land woefully felt death’s mighty kiss.

From caverns deep to sides so steep
The alp descends to twilight sleep
So deep, so dank only time will tell
When I hear a foreign, Earthly yell.

But hold, the sun eve break to day.

The sun peaks over the giants so high
As a sudden glistening catches my eye

Blinded! From what, I cannot say.
All is clear as light breaks away.

A rushing river, with riveting rush
Seen only through the quenched, thickening thrush!

Halt! For what can this signal be?
It looks, beacons, and calls me.
At a walking pace I catch a sight:
A sea of glass twinkling white.
Shining river of silver gleam.
O! How this land is such a dream!