 | Words by the Wayside |  |
78
To Friends in the North
Blithe winds that sweep the moor, and take
Their savour from the main,
Of power to soothe the spirit's ache
And brace the weary brain:
Their savour from the main,
Of power to soothe the spirit's ache
And brace the weary brain:
Wild headlands whence the sea-fowl flit
To cloud and storm akin,
Soft dells and shadowy dingles fit
To shelter fairies in;
To cloud and storm akin,
Soft dells and shadowy dingles fit
To shelter fairies in;
The mystic blue immensities
Where sky and ocean touch
Commingling—you have given us these,
And these indeed are much;
Where sky and ocean touch
Commingling—you have given us these,
And these indeed are much;
But more than all we learn from you
He finds the best who finds
Hearts that beat only to be true,
And truth-enamoured minds.
He finds the best who finds
Hearts that beat only to be true,
And truth-enamoured minds.
| Words by the Wayside | |