And made your hollow gorges clash and roar,
And scarred your brows in vain.
Around your barren heads and granite steeps
Tempestuous grey battalions of the rain
Charge and recharge, across the plateaued floors,
Drenching the serried pines; and the hail sweeps
Your pitiless scaurs.
The long midsummer heat
Chars the thin leafage of your rocks in fire:
Autumn with windy robe and ruinous feet