Take me to the hills again,
Back where I belong;
Let me hear the wind's refrain
And the river's song,
Hear the runnels in the rain
When the nights are long;
Dream by morning waters cool,
Fringed with green morasses,
Swaying reed and amber pool
When October passes
Golden-eyed and beautiful
Through the feathery grasses.
Not for me the blue allure
Of the wide sea-lanes,
Creaming reef or shingled shore,
White steeds' flying manes;
Where I left my heart of yore
Still my heart remains.
Not for me the jostling whirl,
Cold and careless faces.
Where the dusty breezes swirl
Round the market places;
Better far the glens of pearl
That the cloud embraces.
I could never watch the rose,
Jade and jasper render
Radiance to the evening's close
Veiled with purples tender
With the houses, rows on rows,
Shutting out the splendor.
First published in The Bulletin, 14 October 1926
