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Three roads there are that climb and wind Amongst the hills, and leave behind The patterned orchards, sloping down To meet a little country town.
And of these roads I'll take the one That tops the ridges, where the sun Is tempered by the mountain-breeze And dancing shadows of the trees.
The road is rough - but to my feet Softer than is the city street; And then the trees! - how beautiful She-oak and gum - how fresh and cool!
No walls there are to hamper me; Only in blue infinity The distant mountain-ramparts rise Beneath the broad arch of the skies.
And in that high place I shall hear The wild birds' singing, soft and clear; And horse-bells tinkling as of old In amongst the wattles' gold
Far-off is the ocean tide; But there across the country-side Roll waves of bush that rise and fall To break against the mountain-wall.
And every little farm is seen An island in a sea of green; And every little farm at night Flings through the dark its beacon-light -
There in the silence of the hills, I shall find peace that soothes and stills The throbbing of the weary brain, - For I am going home again.
Dora Wilcox
Read poems about / on: horse, city, ocean, silence, beautiful, peace, green, home, wind, sea, dark, sun, light, night, tree, rose, sky, dance
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