THE HILLS
Consider the large heavenward hills, their ease,
Their genial age, their wisdom. More and more
I lift mine eyes unto the hills which bore
Of old their brunt of battle, and have peace.
These are the scars were ground across their knees
When the earth shuddered and the ice came on.
The hills have heaved and shouted and made moan
For the hot fire that bit their arteries.