GIVE ME BOTH
The nearest water supply to the Tories’ Den.
(See pages 53-55).
Photo by Author.
The glad wild hills,
With rushing rills,
Are clothed with glory—
The old, old story,
Yet new,
In the everlasting hills.
In mountain majesties,
And highborn ecstasies,
Fresh strength may be,
And balm for me
And you,
In the glad, wild hills.
Then in surf and sea,
With youthful glee—
While waves are dashing,
And swimmers splashing
Around
In the ever-changing sea;
With wavelets dancing,
The tide advancing;
Breezes kissing—
Ah, no one missing
Life’s bound,
In the wild waves of the sea.