His darkened form uprising there commands

The country round, and every eye

From lesser hills he strangely seems to draw

With lifted glance that speaks of wonder and of awe.

It is the awe that makes us reverence show

To men of might who proudly tower

Above their fellow-men; the glance that we bestow

On one whose native force and power

Have lifted him above the race below—

The pigmy mortals of an hour—