As none else of earth's mould
Hath done: the sun embrowns,
But does not scorch them; rain, and wind, and snow,
Renew them, not destroy; no waste they know,
But lasting glory crowns.
Still to the heart endeared
Are sights like this we gaze on. Do we deem
That they are other than a privileged dream?—
One that the mind has reared!