Each time I leave my door I see
far mountain ridges taunting me
their deep valleys and steep hill sides
never again will feel my strides

For my story has way too much past
the years have caught me up at last
yet I still have my memories
of traipsing among tall spruce trees

And wading rivers and catching trout
where riffles murmur and rapids shout
walking far to set up camp
ignoring both the cold and damp

Topping mountains to see oak trees
stirred by summits' constant breeze
accompanied by friends now passed
back when my legs were strong and fast

I had no fear then that I'd stumble
or dread a coming storm's deep rumble
roaming for hours without a care
my mind oft carries me back there

Well then, mock me if you will
but one more time I'll scale you still
your crest I'll mount and even more
and meet friends that I knew before

When the bell has rung its final chime
and I've run out of mortal time
but for now I'll have to be content
to dwell in recollection's tent