Sonnet.
Mount Egmont.

She towers above our human hopes and fears,
Holding her majesty aloof from all.
When, in the slumb'rous evening, shadows fall,
And, silver on her snow, the moon appears,
She gazes, spellbound, on a million tears
Of angels' lamentations, crystal-small….
and smiles, as though she cannot quite recall
The mystery of music that she hears.
It is a silent melody that swells
Across her silent peak and silent snow.
And, could we listen well enough. sweet bells
May faintly echo—such enchantment glow
Into our souls, that self-ambition dies …
Mt. Egmont smiles with wisdom in her eyes.

—Vivien Fairhall.

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