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The Three Hills
By John Collings Squire, Sir
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."
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