Hills, you must hold the very heart of thought,
Untrammelled in your cold, remote repose,
As round about my solitude you close
In sapphire silence immemorially caught
Oft, oft at eve some message I have sought
In your grave grandeur every lover knows.
Only your quietness replies through those
Majestically azure summits -- nought.
O distant, dear, sequestered sentinels
Of days unborn and everlasting nights,
Breathe the grand ample peace you keep in me;
And lift me where no earthly spirit dwells;
And make me one with you, O healing heights!
Blue hills that mate with God's eternity!
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 16 May 1931
