Happy the man, who on the mountain-side
Bending o’er fern and flowers his basket fills:
Yet he will never know the outline-power,
The awful Whole of the Eternal Hills.
So some there are, who never feel the strength
In thy blind eyes, majestic and complete,
Which conquers those, who motionlessly sit,
O dear divine old Giant, at thy feet.
(Digby Mackworth Dolben)
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