It is the movement that disturbs the line,
      Thickening the form,
      Turning into warm
Compression what had once been cold and fine.

Seen from down here, if only we remained,
      These hills are high:
      Driving on, the sky
Imposes, and no longer can be trained

By any structure of the seeming ground.
      Landscape, I discover,
      As the car gains over
Something that changes from a little mound

To monstrous eminence before you eyes,
      Landscape can flaunt, can
      Fail like the heart of man:
And when you see the difference in size

Of cliffs we once considered at the bright
      Grass along their peak
      And then saw from the bleak
Extremity of sand below, the sight

Gives more than pausealas, it gives the slow
      Ruin of our hopes
      Fed upon the slopes
From where we’ve been to where we want to go.