To see as if on a mountain.

The life shown before me

that flows like a fountain.

The endless breeze from here to yonder

gives a body much to ponder.

Wishes to be wished and made

and time to kill in the shade.

A life to live

and growth to obtain.

The fullness of happiness

and yet there’s pain.

Withering in the heat of the sun

sometimes feeling over-done.

That’s life I guess,

though I must confess

it doesn’t help the heart any

to feel at rest.

This can’t be all there is to be,

for if it were

there wouldn’t be anyone high on the mountain-top

looking down to see,

the growth of each and every little tree.