Classic Poem

I roamed with thee the mountain-side,
And, with thee, watched the shadows fall;
The sun went down, but night flung wide
A glory mightier than all.

And we have walked the fields, we twain,
And said: " How fair the distance shows!
How far they blend — the sky and plain!
How holy-bright the twilight glows! "

And, hill or plain, thy soul was high, —
High as the peaks that lift to God;
And not more true than thee the sky
That shone, as on our way we trod.