This page has been validated.
DOWN THE TRAIL
BREAK camp, the dawn is here!
A sea has swept beneath us in the night—
Poured outward in a wrinkled floor of white,
And left our eyrie dear.
There in the deeps the little trail is curled—
We plunge like divers to the under-world.
A sea has swept beneath us in the night—
Poured outward in a wrinkled floor of white,
And left our eyrie dear.
There in the deeps the little trail is curled—
We plunge like divers to the under-world.
The manzanita stirs!
Look, in that little thicket just ahead!
Down, down, the covey whirrs,
Mocking us, careful, led,
Slow-slipping beads along a slender thread.
Look, in that little thicket just ahead!
Down, down, the covey whirrs,
Mocking us, careful, led,
Slow-slipping beads along a slender thread.
Here the stream flows;
Here we tread yellow leaves.
(Sun in the sycamores,
Sun on the granite walls.)
All is so still,
Never wind blows,
Only the singing stream
Shouts little waterfalls.
Here we tread yellow leaves.
(Sun in the sycamores,
Sun on the granite walls.)
All is so still,
Never wind blows,
Only the singing stream
Shouts little waterfalls.
We round the mighty shoulder of a hill—
Oh, sweet airs damp with ferns!
The day is old, the lengthening shadows chill—
The wanderer returns.
Oh, sweet airs damp with ferns!
The day is old, the lengthening shadows chill—
The wanderer returns.
72
