Classic Poem

Oh ! the lure of a Summer's Day!
Shimmering squalls run over the bay,
Calling, calling: “Away! Away!”
And every leaf so green and new
On the wooded hills that skirt its blue
Thrills tOhis pipes as the Wind goes through,
Calling to me, calling to you,
Calling: “Away! Away!”

Sweet the lure of a Summer's Day,
Sweet the voice of the Wind at play,
Calling, calling across the bay—
But oh! there's a lure more strong than they!
Look! and let us away!

Look!—a gap in the forest wall,
A pasture-slope from wave to sky,
Sheep asleep on the brow o' the hill,
And a winding roadway white and still,
And never a cloud on high.
Look! look! Do you feel the call
Of a road that runs to the sky?

Then hasten, hasten, hasten away!
Laugh at the squalls on the rippled bay!
Nought care we what the fates may bring!
We follow, follow, you understand,
Follow, follow, and stay not still:
Time is nothing: the Road's the thing!
Who knows but the borders of Fairyland
Lie at the crest of the hill!