My own blue hills! When morning's mist,
Arising slowly, melts away,
And they are faintly amethyst
And softly grey.
I love them -- love their every change,
My hills -- my own familiar friends!
Out to the furthest purple range
My love extends.
Bright noonday finds them deeply blue,
And when the sun in glory sets
The distant mountains take the hue
Of violets.
Oh from their solemn beauty mild
Some healing influence steals to steep
My troubled spirit, as a child
Is hushed to sleep.
And though life lead me far apart
To lands whose strangeness cramps and chills,
They still shall calm and keep my heart,
My own blue hills!
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 22 November 1924
