ALFRED CASTNER KING

TO THE MANY FRIENDS WHO HAVE SO KINDLY ASSISTED IN THE ARRANGEMENT OF THE MANUSCRIPTS FOR PUBLICATION, AFTER THE SHADOWS OF HOPELESS BLINDNESS DESCENDED UPON ME FOREVER, THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

List of Illustrations.

Portrait of Author

"Grandeur"

Mount Wilson

Mountain View in San Juan

Scene in Ouray

Uncompahgre Cañon

Mountain Scene in San Juan

Emerald Lake

Scene near Telluride

Bridal Veil Falls

Lizard Head

Trout Lake

Box Cañon Looking Inward

Ouray, Colorado

Box Cañon Looking Outward

Ironton Park

Bear Creek Falls

"A wilderness of weird fantastic shapes."

PREFACE

"Of making many books there is no end."—Eccles. 12:12.

When the above words were written by Solomon, King of Israel, about three thousand years ago, they were possibly inspired by the existence even at that early period of an extensive and probably overweighted literature.

The same literary conditions are as true to-day as when the above truism emanated from that most wonderful of all human intellects. Every age and generation, as well as every changing religious or political condition, has brought with it its own peculiar and essentially differing current literature, which, as a rule, continued a brief season, and then vanished, perishing with the age and conditions which called it into being; leaving, however, an occasional volume, masterpiece, or even quotation, to become classic, and in the form of standard literature survive for generations, and in many instances for ages.

Poetry has always occupied a unique position in literature; and though from a pecuniary stand-point usually unprofitable, it enjoys the decided advantage of longevity.

The mysterious ages of antiquity have bequeathed to all succeeding time several of earth's noblest epics, while the contemporaneous prose, if any existed, has long lain buried in the inscrutable archives of the remote past.

The two most notable of these, the Iliad and the Odyssey, are believed to have been transmitted from generation to generation, orally, by the minstrels and minnisingers, until the introduction or inception of the Greek alphabet, when they were reduced to parchment, and, surviving all the vicissitudes of time and sequent political and religious change, still occupy a prominent place in literature.

The Book of Job, generally accepted as the most ancient of writings, now extant, whether sacred or secular, was doubtless originally a primitive though sublime poetical effusion.

The prose works contemporaneous with Chaucer, Spencer, and even with that most wonderful of literary epochs, the Elizabethan age, are now practically obsolete, while the poetical efforts remain in some instances with increased prominence.

Someone, (although just who is difficult to determine,—though it savors of the Greek School of Philosophy,—)has delivered the following injunction: "Do right because it is right, not from fear of punishment or hope of reward." Waiving the question as to whether it is right or not to compose poetry, he who aspires in that direction can reasonably expect no material recompense, though the experience of Dante, Cervantes, Leigh Hunt, and others, proves conclusively that poets do not always escape punishment. In fact, about the only emolument to be expected is the gratification of an inherent and indefinable impulse, which impels one to the task with equal force, whether the ultimate result be affluence or a dungeon.

The author of this unpretentious volume has long questioned the advisability of adding a book to our already inflated and overloaded literature, unless it should contain something in the nature of a deviation from beaten literary paths.

Whether the reading public will regard this as such or not is a question for the future to determine, as every book is a creature of circumstance, and at the date of its publication an algebraic unknown quantity.

It was not the original intention of the author to publish any of his effusions in collective form until more mature years and riper judgment should better qualify him for the task of composition, and should enable him to still further pursue the important studies of etymology, rhetoric, Latin and Greek, and complete the education which youthful environment denied.

On the 17th of March, A.D. 1900, occurred an accident in the form of a premature mining explosion which banished the light of the Colorado sun from his eyes forever, adding the almost insurmountable barrier of total and hopeless blindness to those of limited means and insufficient education. At first further effort seemed useless, but as time meliorates in some degree even the most deplorable and distressing physical conditions, ambition slowly rallied, and while lying for several months a patient in various hospitals in an ineffectual attempt to regain even partial sight, the following ideas and efforts of past years were gradually recalled from the recesses of memory, and reduced to their present form, in which, with no small hesitation and misgiving, they are presented to the consideration of the reading public, which in the humble opinion of the author has frequently failed to receive and appreciate productions of vastly superior merit.

Ouray, Colorado, March 15, 1901.

"I stood at sunrise on the topmost part, Of lofty mountain, massively sublime." MOUNT WILSON, SAN MIGUEL COUNTY, COLORADO.

Grandeur.

Dedicated to the mountains of the San Juan district, Colorado, as seen from the summit of Mt. Wilson.

"Majestic turrets and the stately dome." MOUNTAIN VIEW, SAN JUAN, COLORADO.

"The trachyte wall beseamed and battle scarred." SCENE IN OURAY COUNTY, COLORADO.

"Would seem in more accord and harmony, With such surroundings than the puny form Of insignificant, conceited man." UNCOMPAHGRE CAÑON, NEAR OURAY, COLORADO.

"Both solitary and in straggling groups; In solid phalanx, rigid and compact." MOUNTAIN SCENE, SAN JUAN COUNTY, COLORADO.

FOOTNOTES:

Composed at St. Anthony's hospital, Denver, Colo., from whence the author was led hopelessly blind.

To the Pines.

"Inverted in fantastic form, Below the water line." EMERALD LAKE, SAN MIGUEL COUNTY, COLORADO.

Think Not that the Heart is Devoid of Emotion.

"Where nature's chemistry distills, The fountain and the laughing rills." SCENE NEAR TELLURIDE, SAN MIGUEL COUNTY, COLORADO.

Nature's Lullaby.

"Where the torrent falls o'er the mountain wall." BRIDAL VEIL FALLS, NEAR TELLURIDE, SAN MIGUEL COUNTY, COLORADO.

The Valley of the San Miguel.

"Where the mountains high, cleave the azure sky, With their turrets so bleak and gray." LIZARD HEAD, SAN MIGUEL COUNTY, COLORADO.

FOOTNOTES:

San Miguel, pronounced "Magill," the Spanish form of St. Michael.

To Mother Huberta.

As repeated in chorus on the anniversary of her Names-day by the Sisters of St. Hubert at St. Anthony's Hospital, Denver, Col., Oct. 29, 1900.

FOOTNOTES:

St. Hubert.

St. Hubert, the apostle of Ardennes, a saint of the Roman Catholic Church, the patron of huntsmen. He was of a noble family of Acquitaine. While hunting in the forests of Ardennes he had a vision of a stag with a shining crucifix between its antlers, and heard a warning voice. He was converted, entered the church, and eventually became Bishop of Maestricht and Liege. He worked many miracles, and is said to have died in 727 or 729. Spofford's Cyclopædia, Vol. 4, page 470.

Suggested by a Mountain Eagle.

"And by the mountain crystal lake A rustic habitation make." TROUT LAKE, SAN MIGUEL COUNTY, COLORADO.