Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
The Hill.
The holy lamps of Evening shine
Sheer in the West — the air is still —
As I sit with this heart of mine
At the foot of Parnassus' hill.
Through my life's day I've reached to this —
To see where the immortals trod,
Winding up the dark height, I wis,
Till they came on the light of God.
Ah! I, a pilgrim with tired feet,
Have touched the verge of their renown,
As I look up on Homer's seat
And know the bards may not come down.
Still on those peaks, as powers apart,
They breathe the air now breathed by me,
For each has climbed the human heart —
The deathless hill of Poesy!
poem
by
Robert Crawford
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black