The Legend of the Sleeping Giant

"...Above Mount Carmel's towering crest,

We saw the autumn foliage and the pines,

And far away upon the Giant's breast,

We studied out his form in curving lines.

 

A Sleeping Giant! lying there in state,

His head is pillowed on a running stream,

And laves his temples while night's shadows wait,

But noon still finds him in his quiet dream.

 

His dream must be of trees, and sun, and water,

Which rest forever on his upturned face,

Or of the rain-cloud when its brilliant daughter,

Curves her bright bow above his resting place.

 

Above his quiet form the lightning flashes,

And robes him for an instant in its glare,

Ere the hoarse thunder with its startling crashes,

Rebounds in echoes on his forehead bare.

 

The winter snows, the ice, and frost of ages,

Have lain above him in his calm repose,

While through the world's unlettered store of pages,

No written story of his history flows.

...

From many city streets his distant outline,

Touches the vision with delicious thrill,

And longing fancies eagerly incline

Your footsteps onward to his dreamy hill."

 

(Excerpt from Hamden, CT's epic poem.

View the full text here: goo.gl/IKcE4z)

Done