The Poetry Corner

Hills Of The West

By Madison Julius Cawein

Hills of the west, that gird Forest and farm, Home of the nestling bird, Housing from harm, When on your tops is heard Storm: Hills of the west, that bar Belts of the gloam, Under the twilight star, Where the mists roam, Take ye the wanderer Home. Hills of the west, that dream Under the moon, Making of wind and stream, Late-heard and soon, Parts of your lives that seem Tune. Hills of the west, that take Slumber to ye, Be it for sorrow's sake Or memory, Part of such slumber make Me.