Time and Change 



Leon Augustus Hausman 



See the everlasting hills 

 Yield their substance to the rills — 

 Rills that tear them, rills that bear them 

 On through rivers to the sea, 

 To the sounding bounding sea, 

 To the earth-surrounding sea; 

 Hurrying from their lofty heights 

 Through the vales and o'er the lea: 

 'Til within the mighty ocean 

 Cease the rivers in their motion, 

 And the sands of their erosion 

 Sink to rest. 



Deep beneath the waves they lie 

 In the darkness of the waters, 

 In the green and silent waters, 

 And the fishes pass them by, 

 Winnowing with fins of silver 

 O'er the ocean's level breast. 



Where are the eternal hills, 

 Birthplace of a thousand rills, 

 Birthplace of the mighty rivers 

 Wand'ring languid o'er the plain? 

 They are dragged from off their station, 

 Levelled from their proud foundation, 

 By their streamlets' degradation 

 Hurried off into the main! 



In unfathomed depths they sleep, 

 Far in ocean's bosom deep, 

 'Til they shall be indurated, 

 Be upraised and reinstated, 

 Folded, faulted, and plicated 

 Into rolling hills again! 



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