Explore "The Hills" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Behind my father's cottage lies / A gentle grassy height / Up which I often ran -- to gaze / Back with a wondering sight, / For then the chimneys I thought high / Were down below me quite!
All round, where'er I turned mine eyes, / Huge hills closed up the view; / The town 'mid their converging roots / Was clasped by rivers two; / From, one range to another sprang / The sky's great vault of blue.