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Robert Laurence Binyon - On The Hills
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Drinking wide, sunny wind,
 Hand within hand,
 We look from hill to hill
 Of our own land.

 Hand within hand, we remember
 Without speech,
 And hour upon hour comes about us;
 We number them each.

 O little far clouds that swim
 In the round of blue,
 Are you bringing those hours again,
 Shining in you?

 You melt into air, drop on earth,
 Sucked up in the light,
 And again you appear, in the blue
 You are born, you are bright,

 As those hours live in us, nay beyond;
 When we die, they shall still
 Lift our hearts up, as now we uplift
 Our hearts on the hill.
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