never so terrible a tale there was ; how the hills began to howl a grin was on the verdant slopes , yet on the sky a scowl the scowling sky , it grimaced low , and scoured the hills with rain , yet rambling rills did swiftly flow , and made them dry again ever a frown was borne aloft , on gunmetal clouds of grey , a fleet diffuse and lightning quick , lit up the night like day bright day was ever turned to night ; dread elements in array , dressed in clouds of thund'rous smoke , spun fast like potters clay the whirlwinds ate into the earth , and threw sharp thunder down , but the hills were made of granite strong , deep roots in iron ground hail fell thick upon the hills ; the meadows ached with ice 'til sunlight 's fire came to their aid , to ward off winter 's vice the sky thought dark and low , its brow creased in vales of cloud ; it thought of a creature swift and sly , as strong as it was proud the sky made red the mottled moon , the twilight turned to blood ; out from dust was born mankind , the evil and the good the evil cursed up to the sky , the good a prayer proclaimed , with different words they told in verse , one thing and the same the thought from them was borne aloft , so simple and so plain ; that high evil thinks it 's good and good takes evil 's name there began a bitter war of words , a war of heart and mind ; and where a heart could only lose , crosshairs could surely find to plant a cross takes fertile land , ploughed deep with blood and lime to make a wreath takes craftsmanship , a bomb the production line quick it was , for the hills to howl , a firebrand cloud and flash ; five thousand years of artifice laid low in a bed of ash so drear it was , the howling trill , the poison rains that choked the rill , roots , pigeons , rats and all that 's ill , were all that lived , alone to grieve nothing remained , save mada and eve nothing could grow , nothing could breathe so think of wind when you eat your sprouts , and hail unto the wasteland 's shouts an empty slate , a piece of chalk an ever longer road to walk a crater fount , a town forlorn , built upon this frazzled gorse , a cliff from fossil ages torn speaks one fossil word : remorse `` that was the condensed version , '' said indole .