Cambridge Poets 1900–1913

J. C. Squire . I cannot sink , I cannot climb, Now that I see my ancient dwelling , The central orb untouched of time, And taste a peace all bliss excelling . Now I have broken Beauty 's wall , Now that my kindred world I hold , I care not though the cities fall And the green earth go cold . THE THREE HILLS . THERE were three hills that stood alone With woods about their feet . They dreamed quiet when the sun shone And whispered when the rain beat . They wore all three their coronals Till men with houses came And scored their heads with pits and walls And thought the hills were tame . Red and white when day shines bright , They hide the green for miles ; Where are the old hills gone ? At night The moon looks down and smiles . 176