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IN THE HIGHTS”

"IN THE HIGHTS"

ONE who this valley passionately loved

No more these slopes shall climb, nor hear these

streams

That, like the murmured melody of dreams,

His happy spirit moved.

He knew the sudden and mysterious thrill

That takes the heart of man on mountain hights, These autumn days that flame from hill to hill, These deep and starry nights.

O vanished spirit! tell us, if so may be,

Are our wild longings, stirred by scenes like thisOur deep-breathed, shadowless felicity

A mocking, empty bliss?

No answering word, save from the inmost soul
That cries: all things are real - beauty, youth;
All the heart feels; of sorrow and joy the whole;
That which but seems is truth.

This mortal frame, that harbors the immortal,
Mechanic tho' it be, in our life's fires
Turns spiritual; it becomes the portal
Wherethrough the soul aspires.

The soul's existence in its human sheath
Is life no more than is the spirit's life

In this wide nature whose keen air we breathe;
Whose strife arms us to strife.

And they are wise who seek not to destroy

The unreasoned happiness of the outpoured year. To him, the lost, this vale brought no false joy, And therefore is most dear.

Wherever in the majesty of space,

Near or afar, but not from God afar, Where'er his spirit soars, whatever grace Is his, whatever star

The aspirations and imaginings

That in these glorious paths his soul sublimed, They are a part of him; they are the wings Whereby he strove and climbed.

Nature to man not alien doth endure;
Her spirit in his spirit is transfused;

On this high mystery dream the humble-pure,
The mightiest poets mused.

The white clouds billow down the blowing sky,
Then, O my heart, be lifted up, rejoice!
The trumpet of the winds, to that wild voice
Let all my soul reply!

HOME ACRES

A SENSE of pureness in the air,

Of wholesome life in growing things;
Waving of blossom, blade, and wings;
Perfume and beauty everywhere;
Sky, trees, the grass, the very loam
I love them all; this is our home.

A CALL TO THE MOUNTAINS

God! make me worthy of Thy land
Which mine I call a little while;

This meadow where the sunset's smile
Falls like a blessing from Thy hand,
And where the river singing runs
'Neath wintry skies and summer suns!

Million on million years have sped

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To frame green fields and bowering hills:
The mortal for a moment tills

His span of earth, then is he dead:
This knows he well, yet doth he hold
His paradise like miser's gold.

I would be nobler than to clutch

My little world with gloating grasp;
Now, while I live, my hands unclasp,
Or let me hold it not so much
For my own joy as for the good
Of all the gentle brotherhood.

And as the seasons move in mirth

Of bloom and bird, of snow and leaf,
May my calm spirit rise from grief,
In solace of the lovely earth;
And tho' the land be dark or lit,
O, let me gather songs from it.

A CALL TO THE MOUNTAINS

I CALLED you once to the sea,

Come now to the mountains;
Climb the earth's ramparts with me,
Drink her deep fountains!

On the food that you love make merry;
Forget grind and grief

In the red and the tang of the berry,
The bronze of the leaf.

Chestnuts are ripe on the bough,
And the burrs all are bursting;
For a tramp with you, John, I vow!
I am hungering and thirsting.

Come, John, or you'll be to blame;
The birds wait your biding.
One of them, hearing your name,
Flashed forth from its hiding;-

See, it is searching for you -
Its pretty head cocking;
Pecking, and looking askew,
On the bare bough rocking.

And yonder a stray wing flitters;
A great hawk soars;

The lakelet gleams and glitters;

The high wind roars.

Nearer, from field and thicket,

Come musical calls;

The tinkling, clear note of the cricket,
Chime of ripples and falls.

From the meadow far up to the hight
The leaves all are turning;

By the time you have come to the sight
The world will be blazing and burning.

John of Birds, tarry not till

The first wild snow-flurry;

Voices of forest and hill

Cry hurry, O hurry!

THE LIGHT LIES ON THE FARTHER HILLS 327

SPRING SURPRISE

Lo, now it comes once more; lo, my heart leaps again;
Comes swift the dear surprise, not at the spring, alone,
But, as a soul that knew, many a year agone,
All the full bloom of love, since the gray ashes

Feels all the glad surprise when the o'er-wearied heart Still knows the joy of life, as in the olden days;

That love can thrill again; so the spring calls once

more

With the old tenderness; till my heart trembles.

AUTUMN TREES

BUT yesterday a world of haze,

To-day, a glory of color and light!
Like golden voices shouting praise

The bright trees flame along the hight.

Who would have thought, the summer through,

Each separate tree of all the choir,

Lifting its green against the blue,

Held at its heart such flame and fire?

"THE LIGHT LIES ON THE FARTHER HILLS"

THE clouds upon the mountains rest;

A gloom is on the autumn day;

But down the valley, in the west,
The hidden sunlight breaks its way
A light lies on the farther hills.

Forget thy sorrow, heart of mine!

Tho' shadows fall and fades the leaf,