Where hazy purple and gold rimmed hills
Glow bright in silvery dew.
There's no resisting the pleasant thrills
Reserved for the special few.
Who follow gladly the golden miles
By leaf checkered pathways led.
Amid the glories of Autumn's wiles
To the laughing streamlets head.
Above the gorge, nigh the boulders old
Where the red deer come to drink.
And the low-branched trees their glory hold
O'er the waters quiet brink.
'Gainst the softer blue of peaceful sky
Toward the South for many miles
The crested pine-spires greet the eye
Green-gold when the glad sun smiles
And all who traverse the roadway old
To these hills of tall domed pine
Shall find the fountain of life, we're told!
Renewed by the fragrance fine.
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