234
OVER THE HILLSIDE.
OVER THE HILLSIDE.
AREWELL. In dimmer distance I watch your figures glide,
Across the sunny moorland,
The brown hillside:
Each momently up rising
Large, dark against the sky,
Then—in the vacant moorland,
Alone sit I.
Large, dark against the sky,
Then—in the vacant moorland,
Alone sit I.
Within the unknown country
Where your lost footsteps pass,
What beauty decks the heavens
And clothes the grass!
Where your lost footsteps pass,
What beauty decks the heavens
And clothes the grass!
Over the mountain shoulder
What glories may unfold!
Though I see but the mountain
Bleak, bare and cold,—
What glories may unfold!
Though I see but the mountain
Bleak, bare and cold,—
And the white road, slow winding
To where, each after each,
You slipped away—ah, whither?
I cannot reach.
To where, each after each,
You slipped away—ah, whither?
I cannot reach.
