Upon the hill.
She was a river in a thirsty land,
A changeless star in midnight skies to shine—
Her touch, to walk with Nature hand-in-hand—
And she was mine, was mine.
So leave me in the wood a little while;
Here where the grass is greenest let me lie.
The sun shall bring me once again her smile,
The wind her sigh.
Here only do we seem no more apart,