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The Yellowstone National Park is a region where beauty, grandeur, awfulness and ugliness have strangely congregated. The marvelous coloring of the Grand Canyon is matchless, and is suggestive of some gigantic paint shop where the various shades have been tested.

Just where the river seeks to hide
Itself by plunging o'er the falls,
Is where the great Creator tried
His colors on the canyon walls.


The colors of the sunset skies,
The tints that form the arching bow,
Are there in all their choicest dyes,
Such as no artist's work can show.


Like strip of jade with streaks of foam,
The river winds far, far below
'Mid cliffs of buff called Yellowstone,
The water comes from melting snow


That decks the peaks. Some spires arise
From out the canyon, red and tall,
Like fingers, pointing to the skies,
To God, the Maker of it all.