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A CALL TO THE MOUNTAINS |
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 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
A CALL TO THE MOUNTAINS
I called you once to the sea,
Come now to the mountains;
Climb the earth's ramparts with me,
Drink her deep fountains!
Come now to the mountains;
Climb the earth's ramparts with me,
Drink her deep fountains!
On the food that you love make merry;
Forget grind and grief
In the red and the tang of the berry,
The bronze of the leaf.
Forget grind and grief
326
The bronze of the leaf.
Chestnuts are ripe on the bough,
And the burrs all are bursting;
For a tramp with you, John, I vow!
I am hungering and thirsting.
And the burrs all are bursting;
For a tramp with you, John, I vow!
I am hungering and thirsting.
Come, John, or you'll be to blame;
The birds wait your biding.
One of them, hearing your name,
Flashed forth from its hiding;—
The birds wait your biding.
One of them, hearing your name,
Flashed forth from its hiding;—
See, it is searching for you—
Its pretty head cocking;
Pecking, and looking askew,
On the bare bough rocking.
Its pretty head cocking;
Pecking, and looking askew,
On the bare bough rocking.
And yonder a stray wing flitters;
A great hawk soars;
The lakelet gleams and glitters;
The high wind roars.
A great hawk soars;
The lakelet gleams and glitters;
The high wind roars.
Nearer, from field and thicket,
Come musical calls;
The tinkling, clear note of the cricket,
Chime of ripples and falls.
Come musical calls;
The tinkling, clear note of the cricket,
Chime of ripples and falls.
From the meadow far up to the hight
The leaves all are turning;
By the time you have come to the sight
The world will be blazing and burning.
The leaves all are turning;
By the time you have come to the sight
The world will be blazing and burning.
John of Birds, tarry not till
The first wild snow-flurry;
Voices of forest and hill
Cry hurry, O hurry!
The first wild snow-flurry;
Voices of forest and hill
Cry hurry, O hurry!
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |