Page:Rudyard Kipling - A diversity of creatures.djvu/389

 The rain it rains without a stay
 * In the hills above us, in the hills;

And presently the floods break way
 * Whose strength is in the hills.

The trees they suck from every cloud, The valley brooks they roar aloud— Bank-high for the lowlands, lowlands,
 * Lowlands under the hills!

The first wood down is sere and small,
 * From the hills, the brishings off the hills;

And then come by the bats and all
 * We cut last year in the hills;

And then the roots we tried to cleave But found too tough and had to leave— Poking through the lowlands, lowlands,
 * Lowlands under the hills!

The eye shall look, the ear shall hark
 * To the hills, the doings in the hills,

And rivers mating in the dark
 * With tokens from the hills.