 | By The Way |  |
THE HERMITAGE
Far from the city's smoke and stir
My quiet Hermitage is made,
Where summer beech and winter fir
Conjoin their hospitable shade.
My quiet Hermitage is made,
Where summer beech and winter fir
Conjoin their hospitable shade.
The north-star crowns my wooded hill
Of devious paths and thicket mild,
And by my garden foot a rill
Sings to itself, like happy child.
Of devious paths and thicket mild,
And by my garden foot a rill
Sings to itself, like happy child.
| By The Way | |