The Poetry Corner

Beyond The Barn

By John Frederick Freeman

I rose up with the sun And climbed the hill. I saw the white mists run And shadows run Down into hollow woods. I went with the white clouds That swept the hill. A wind struck the low hedge trees And clustering trees, And rocked in each tall elm. The long afternoon was calm When down the hill I came, and felt the air cool, The shadows cool; And I walked on footsore, Saying, "But two hours more, Then, the last hill.... Surely this road I know, These hills I know, All the unknown is known, "And that barn, black and lone, High on the hill-- There the long road ends, The long day ends, And travelling is over." ... Nor thought nor travelling's over. Here on the hill The black barn is a shivering ruin, A windy cold ruin. I must go on and on, Where often my thought has gone, Up hill, down hill, Beyond this ruin of Time; Forgetting Time I must follow my thought still.