For our roots are great and strong;
Our voice is eternal, our song sublime,
And its theme is the days of yore—
Back thousands of years of misty time,
When we first grew old and hoar!
Deep down in the crevice our roots were hid,
And our limbs were thick and green
Ere Cheops had builded his pyramid,
Or the Sphinx's form was seen.
Whole forests have risen within our ken,