Explore "An Alpine Valley" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
OH, happy valley at the mountain's feet, / If half your happiness you could but know! / Though over you a shadow always falls, / And far above you rise those heights of snow, / So far, your yearning love you may not speak / With rosy flush like some high sister peak, / Yet you may clasp its feet in fond embrace, / And gaze up in its face.
And sometimes down its slopes a wind will come / And bring a sudden, noiseless sweep of snow, / Like a soft greeting from those summits sent / To comfort you below.
What more? Love may not ask too great a boon.
Enough to be so near, though cast so low.
Think that a sea had rolled between you twain / If careless fortune had decreed it so, / And you could only lie and look across / To distant cloudy heights and know your loss, / And see some favored valley, fair and sweet, / Heap flowers at its feet.
_Cham, Switzerland._