The heavenly hills of Holland,-- <br />How wondrously they rise <br />Above the smooth green pastures <br />Into the azure skies! <br />With blue and purple hollows, <br />With peaks of dazzling snow, <br />Along the far horizon <br />The clouds are marching slow. <br /> <br />No mortal foot has trodden <br />The summits of that range, <br />Nor walked those mystic valleys <br />Whose colors ever change; <br />Yet we possess their beauty, <br />And visit them in dreams, <br />While the ruddy gold of sunset <br />From cliff and canyon gleams. <br /> <br />In days of cloudless weather <br />They melt into the light; <br />When fog and mist surround us <br />They're hidden from our sight; <br />But when returns a season <br />Clear shining after rain, <br />While the northwest wind is blowing, <br />We see the hills again. <br /> <br />The old Dutch painters loved them, <br />Their pictures show them clear, <br />Old Hobbema and Ruysdael, <br />Van Goyen and Vermeer. <br />Above the level landscape, <br />Rich polders, long-armed mills, <br />Canals and ancient cities,-- <br />Float Holland's heavenly hills.<br /><br />Henry Van Dyke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-heavenly-hills-of-holland/
