A land of sombre, silent hills, where mountain cattle go By twisted tracks, on sidelings deep, where giant gum trees grow And the wind replies, in the river oaks, to the song of the stream below. A land where the hills keep watch and ward, silent and wide awake. AB PATERSON.
“Pigmei gigantum humeris impositi plusquam ipsi gigantes vident””Pigmies placed on the shoulders of giants see more than the giants themselves.”Lucan AD 39-65, The Civil War…
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