This land of dragons lies asleep, and we Who walk it do not see on what we tread Until we meet a hillside glade and see The ridge’s other, serpent, shape lie spread. They sleep. To see this land, you would not guess The battles they have fought, the mountains made And kingdoms crushed. Their mortal combat is More great, strong, slow, than man can comprehend. To us, they sleep. Or sleep uneasily; We feel the shield-wall’s jar sometimes, catch how Beneath our feet they war on steadily With wing and claw of stone that ages grow. The dragons of this land are huge and strong, Seen but when science matches eye with song.