Separate shadows toward the vale,
Over which, in choral silence, the hills look you their “All hail!”
Far out, kindled by each other,
Shining hills on hills arise;
Close as brother leans to brother,
When they press beneath the eyes
Of some father praying blessings from the gifts of paradise.
While beyond, above them mounted,
And above their woods also,
Malvern hills, for mountains counted