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the berkshire hills.
Go forth when the daylight is passing away,
And catch from the hill-tops the sun's parting ray;
Of a world of bliss it will seem to tell;
It is bright as a dying saint's farewell.
And catch from the hill-tops the sun's parting ray;
Of a world of bliss it will seem to tell;
It is bright as a dying saint's farewell.
Dost thou seek for friends,—to the hills repair;
For love and goodness flourish there:
'Mong the Berkshire hills are friends I know,
Whose hearts can make a heaven below.
For love and goodness flourish there:
'Mong the Berkshire hills are friends I know,
Whose hearts can make a heaven below.
