 | Along the trail |  |
I
Out of the hills came a voice to me,
Out of the pine woods a cry:
Out of the pine woods a cry:
“Thou hast numbered and named us, O man. Hast thou known us at all?
Thou hast riven our rocks for their secrets, and measured our heights
As a hillock is measured. But are we revealed? Canst thou call
Ascutney thy fellow? Or is it thou Kearsarge invites?
What speech have we given thee, measurer—cleaver of stones?
For we talk to the day-star at dawning, the night-winds o' nights,
And our days are a tongue that thou hearest not, digger of bones!
Thou hast riven our rocks for their secrets, and measured our heights
As a hillock is measured. But are we revealed? Canst thou call
Ascutney thy fellow? Or is it thou Kearsarge invites?
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For we talk to the day-star at dawning, the night-winds o' nights,
And our days are a tongue that thou hearest not, digger of bones!
“O you who would know us, come out from the roofs you have made,
And plunge in our waters and breathe the sharp joy of the air!
Let the hot sun beat down on your foreheads, lie prone in the shade,
With your hearts to the roots and the mosses, climb till you stare
From the summit that juts like an island up into the sky!
Watch the clouds pass by day, and by night let the power of Altair
And Arcturus and Vega be on you to lift you on high!
And plunge in our waters and breathe the sharp joy of the air!
Let the hot sun beat down on your foreheads, lie prone in the shade,
With your hearts to the roots and the mosses, climb till you stare
From the summit that juts like an island up into the sky!
Watch the clouds pass by day, and by night let the power of Altair
And Arcturus and Vega be on you to lift you on high!
“For our heart is not down on the maps, nor our magic in books;
But the lover that seeks us shall find us, and keep in his heart
Every rune of our slow-heaving hillsides, the spaces and nooks
Of our woodlands, the sleep of our waters. His thoughts shall be part
Of our thoughts, and his ways shall be with us. His spirit shall flee
From the gluttons of fact. He shall dwell, as the hills dwell, apart.
He only that loves us and lives with us, knows what we be.”
But the lover that seeks us shall find us, and keep in his heart
Every rune of our slow-heaving hillsides, the spaces and nooks
Of our woodlands, the sleep of our waters. His thoughts shall be part
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From the gluttons of fact. He shall dwell, as the hills dwell, apart.
He only that loves us and lives with us, knows what we be.”
I hear you, O woods and hills!
I hearken, O wind of the North!
I hearken, O wind of the North!
| Along the trail | |