THE THREE HILLS

There were three hills that stood alone

With woods about their feet.

They dreamed quiet when the sun shone

And whispered when the rain beat.

They wore all three their coronals

Till men with houses came

And scored their heads with pits and walls

And thought the hills were tame.

Red and white when day shines bright

They hide the green for miles,

Where are the old hills gone? At night

The moon looks down and smiles.

She sees the captors small and weak,

She knows the prisoners strong,

She hears the patient hills that speak:

“Brothers, it is not long;

“Brothers, we stood when they were not

Ten thousand summers past.

Brothers, when they are clean forgot

We shall outlive the last;

“One shall die and one shall flee

With terror in his train,

And earth shall eat the stones, and we

Shall be alone again.”