THE NORTH TRAIL
“Oh, where did you get them, the bonny, bonny roses
That blossom in your cheeks, and the morning in your eyes?”
“I got them on the North Trail, the road that never closes,
That widens to the seven gold gates of Paradise.”
“O come, let us camp in the North Trail together,
With the night-fires lit and the tent-pegs down.”
ALONE
O, O, the winter wind, the North wind—
My snow-bird, where art thou gone?
O, O the wailing wind, the night wind—
The cold nest; I am alone.
O, O my snow-bird!
O, O, the waving sky, the white sky—
My snow-bird, thou fliest far;
O, O the eagle’s cry, the wild cry—
My lost love, my lonely star.
O, O my snow-bird!
THE SCARLET HILLS
Brothers, we go to the Scarlet Hills—
(Little gold sun, come out of the dawn.)
There we will meet in the cedar groves—
(Shining white dew, come down.)
There is a bed where you sleep so sound,
The little good folk of the Hills will guard,
Till the morning wakes and your love comes home—
(Fly away, heart, to the Scarlet Hills.)