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Ay, what has once been a transfigured thingHalts us, long after, with remembering.RomanceAbbie Huston Evans


THE MOUNTAINS
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 aloneHe 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!
RomanceAbbie Huston Evans

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