It towers above the sleekly rounded hills, Ancient, austere, a remnant of a vast, Forgotten land. It muses on the past, On how the patient, toiling centuries Planed down a proud plateau to fashion these Low, rounded hills. At night it contemplates The stately march of stars and meditates Upon eternity. It is content To dream away the years, indifferent. Desiring no companionship, serene, Misted with amethyst and mauve and green It looms against a pale sky, cloud-impearled— A relic of the childhood of the world. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD IRONSIDES by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ON ENGLISH MONSIEUR by BEN JONSON TO ELIZABETH, COUNTESS OF RUTLAND by BEN JONSON ROMAIOS by WILLAM GAY BALLANTINE AN ACTOR'S REMINISCENCES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE HOUREGLASSE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |