Wind blows upon them salt-edged from the ocean, Rain beats upon them, blackening the stone, Frost heaves the ledges with obscure commotion, And the hilltops bleach like bone. Dwindling mountains are they on a dwindling planet, These that look so solid, these that show so fair; Wind and rain and frost and hail set tooth to the granite, It wastes like smoke into air. Though they now are passing like a slow word spoken, In the inch of time wherein man stands alone He sees their rock-knees holding, sees their flanks unbroken, And his heart drinks strength from the stone. Yet they are at best but a short-lived generation, Such as stars must laugh at as they journey forth. Think of old Orion, that great constellation, And the Dipper all alone in the north! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO THE BRITISH MUSEUM by WILLIAM EMPSON SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 12. AT THE DRAPER'S by THOMAS HARDY BURNHAM-BEECHES by HENRY LUTTRELL AIRY NOTHINGS. FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE LAST MAN: LIFE'S UNCERTAINTY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |