Of purple hills
At peace when weary Day
Sinks quietly to rest
In Night's cool arms;
Of rugged, wind-whipped hills
That lift their heads
Above the petty, lowland, valley things,
And shake their shoulders free
Of bonds that hold
Them close to earth;
Of snow-capped hills
Sun-kissed by day, by night
Companioned by the stars;
Of grim volcanoes
Pregnant with the fires
Of molten fury!
Grant me strength,
Great God,
Like that of hills!