Return to the Hills

Like a music of triumph and joy
Sounds the roll of the wheels,
And the breath of the engine laughs out
In loud chuckles and peals,
Like the laugh of a man that is glad
Coming homeward at night;
I lean out of the window and nod
To the left and the right,
To my friends in the fields and the woods;
Not a face do I miss;
The sweet asters and browned golden-rod,
And that stray clematis,
Of all vagabonds dearest and best,
In most seedy estate;
I am sure they all recognize me;
If I only could wait,
I should hear all the welcome which now
In their faces I read,
" O true lover of us and our kin,
We all bid thee God speed! "

O my mountains, no wisdom can teach
Me to think that ye care
Nothing more for my steps than the rest,
Or that they can have share
Such as mine in your royal crown-lands,
Unencumbered of fee;
In your temples with altars unhewn,
Where redemption is free;
In your houses of treasure, which gold
Cannot buy if it seek;
And your oracles, mystic with words,
Which men lose if they speak!

Ah! with boldness of lovers who wed
I make haste to your feet,
And as constant as lovers who die,
My surrender repeat;
And I take as the right of my love,
And I keep as its sign,
An ineffable joy in each sense
And new strength as from wine,
A seal for all purpose and hope,
And a pledge of full light,
Like a pillar of cloud for my day,
And of fire for my night.
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