Back to this mould, this matrix whence I came, I come again. -- Like solder where it spills, My being hardened in among these hills When God took off my metal from the flame And poured me out like silver: presently, My outline fixed forever, I was I, Stamped by this rocky corner like a die, Shaped by these five hills and this edge of sea. Oh, strange how hills and man's heart interlock Inveterately -- how rock can bestow Its contour on his spirit quick within! Yet so it is: hill-men have always been Like nuggets fashioned by their chinks, or snow Packed in the star-like crevice of a rock. |