Cloud-topped and splendid, dominating all
The little lesser¹ hills which compass thee,
Thou standest, bright with April's buoyancy,
Yet holding Winter in some shaded wall
Of stern, steep rock; and startled by the call
Of Spring, thy trees flush with expectancy
And cast a cloud of crimson², silently,
Above thy snowy crevices³ where fall
Pale shrivelled oak leaves, while the snow beneath
Melts at their phantom⁴ touch.  Another year
Is quick with import.  Such each year has been.
Unmoved thou watchest all, and all bequeath
Some jewel to thy diadem⁵ of power,
Thou pledge of greater majesty⁶ unseen.

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