Picture

These triumphant hills have stood
Waiting for human magnitude;
They have seen
Only the humble and the mean:
The hurried farmer, haying-heaping
Acres of grass before the storm;
Smoke from houses, winter reaping,
And the heavy uniform
Furrow…. These hills have seen
Only the meagre and the mean:
Awkward women weeding rows;
Children brandishing at crows;
Men building barns and cutting wood
In an eternal solitude.