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The Glacial Marks on our Hills
Here on our rocks the marks we see,
Where once the glaciers moved on;
Man shares in Nature's mystery,
And lives in ages past and gone.
Where once the glaciers moved on;
Man shares in Nature's mystery,
And lives in ages past and gone.
In these smooth lines we trace their course
From north to south across the land,
A steady, but resistless force,
That e'en the hills could not withstand.
From north to south across the land,
A steady, but resistless force,
That e'en the hills could not withstand.
505
Up their rough slopes they onward go,
To where the hills abruptly end;
Then at their feet the fragments throw,
And onward to the ocean tend.
To where the hills abruptly end;
Then at their feet the fragments throw,
And onward to the ocean tend.
The boulders, which we see around,
Like pebbles on their surface borne,
Were in far distant regions found,
From craggy hills, and mountains torn.
Like pebbles on their surface borne,
Were in far distant regions found,
From craggy hills, and mountains torn.
The long moraine, which, like a road,
Stretches through forests, fields afar;
Tells where dissolved the icy flood,
With warmer suns and skies at war.
Stretches through forests, fields afar;
Tells where dissolved the icy flood,
With warmer suns and skies at war.
Imagination backward flies,
And views with wonder, and with fear,
The prospect which around her lies,
Where naught is seen the mind to cheer!
And views with wonder, and with fear,
The prospect which around her lies,
Where naught is seen the mind to cheer!
Yet in that scene man's thought can live,
Though wild, and desolate, and bare;
Can to these marks a meaning give,
And the long life of Nature share.
Though wild, and desolate, and bare;
Can to these marks a meaning give,
And the long life of Nature share.
The present, like a fleeting dream,
Does from his musing spirit fade!
He gazes down Time's darkling stream,
When mountains and the hills were made!
Does from his musing spirit fade!
He gazes down Time's darkling stream,
When mountains and the hills were made!
Poem No. 171; c. 10 April 1877
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