| I STOOD among the ancient hills, | |
| While all the dusk eve’s blue array | |
| Swept round with softly rustling wings | |
| To still the glamour of the day. | |
| The murmur of persistent rills, | 5 |
| A lone thrush with his communings | |
| Of music, folded in some trees, | |
| A piping robin ere he flew, | |
| And the soft touch of a calm breeze | |
| Sighing across the heavenly view, | 10 |
| Were the sole voices whispering round | |
| The slope hills with reflective sound, | |
| So still the whole earth was: | |
| So very still it was. | |
| The solemn conclave of the hills, | 15 |
| In an erect fraternity, | |
| Expectant of the hour to be, | |
| Were trembling in the calm that fills | |
| The house of Being with its peace. | |
| A measured rhythm flowed abroad | 20 |
| From old Earth of the heart so strong, | |
| That was itself a manner of song, | |
| Bidding the day’s tame tumults cease | |
| Before the coming of her lord. | |
| The throstle, as he communed low, | 25 |
| Enchanted seemed, and tranced, and spelled, | |
| To catch the measure of that flow | |
| That from the mighty heart upwelled, | |
| That his own song thereby should be | |
| Lost in the inner immensity. | 30 |
| The trickling music of the rills | |
| Along the bosom of the hills | |
| Was to that larger rhythm bent, | |
| And in that larger silence played. | |
| The very winds that came and went | 35 |
| Were in their courses stayed, | |
| Hushed in a mute expectancy. | |
| The silent Earth was bent in prayer. | |
| And I, as I stood there, | |
| Scarce witting what my body knew, | 40 |
| Was hushed to adoration too. | |
| |
| Like a charmed cadence throbbing low | |
| Along her scarred, mute visage so, | |
| Flowed the Earth’s spirit thro’ the air | |
| Emerging from its ancient lair,— | 45 |
| Flowed round the dusk and glooming hills | |
| That stood in solemn peacefulness, | |
| Flowed thro’ the shimmer of air that fills | |
| The valleys with a shadowy tress, | |
| Flowed up where stars began to peep, | 50 |
| Flowed where the hushed winds lay asleep, | |
| And sank again while peace profound | |
| Wrapped all the ancient hills around. | |
| Not a breath stirred; | |
| No voice or song was heard. | 55 |
| It was a silence vaster than the dead; | |
| It was a silence where in all its power | |
| Being raised up its mighty head an hour. | |
| And I, tho’ I scarce knew what chanced, | |
| Caught in the measured rhythm, and tranced, | 60 |
| Was yet raised to a terrible dread | |
| Of the great hush that wrapped the hills: | |
| That spell upon the standing hills. | |
| I could have fled, but that the awe | |
| Of an unfurling and strange might | 65 |
| Had me transfigured in its law. | |
| And yet the fear that stirred in me | |
| Was mingled with a wild delight | |
| That thrilled with very ecstasy | |
| Thro’ every nerve and vein and mesh | 70 |
| Building my quivering house of flesh. | |
| |
| Then a strange shudder shook the hills. | |
| Some movement swayed them in eclipse, | |
| As tho’ a dread apocalypse | |
| Were waiting till they were unfurled | 75 |
| With all the travail of the world. | |
| They were transformed, and shadowy-high | |
| They stood there, and yet floated by; | |
| While from some inner place of flame | |
| A boom of distant music came | 80 |
| Suddenly thro’ the air, | |
| And huge and silent chords of sound | |
| Soared o’er the quivering hills around, | |
| As I hung trembling there. | |
| My house of flesh could scarce contain | 85 |
| The rolling chords that swept abroad | |
| And undissolved remain, | |
| My joy stirred in me with such pain. | |
| Loosed on the silence that had been, | |
| Obeying its symphonic lord, | 90 |
| The music rolled thro’ time and space, | |
| Booming in changing chord on chord | |
| Amidst a silence that seemed still | |
| Upon the old Earth’s brooding face. | |
| It rolled round each reverberate hill; | 95 |
| It crashed its high symphonic will | |
| And floated all the vales between, | |
| In clouds of colour mounting high, | |
| In waves of music sweeping by, | |
| Booming above the ancient peace | 100 |
| Betwixt the ancient silences. | |
| |
| What chanced I do not know. | |
| How is it I should know? | |
| Like rolling clouds before the day | |
| The booming music rolled away; | 105 |
| And, like a storm of splendour past, | |
| The silence seemed yet to outlast | |
| The music it had ushered so.— | |
| Then slowly the wise thrush arose | |
| And mused away the evening’s close. | 110 |
