The hills, the eternal hills—for peace dwells there!
R. F. Housman.
Oh! ye time-honoured hills,
The ancient, the immortal is it not
A high-born privilege ne’er to be forgot,
To feel none of earth’s ills?
Sublime are ye as heaven!
Though bleak, not barren; silent, yet not dumb,
From outgone shadows health and music come,
And thronging thoughts are given!