University of Virginia Library


17

FROM THE HILLS OF DREAM

Across the silent stream
Where the slumber-shadows go,
From the dim blue Hills of Dream
I have heard the west wind blow.
Who hath seen that fragrant land,
Who hath seen that unscanned west?
Only the listless hand
And the unpulsing breast.
But when the west wind blows
I see moon-lances gleam
Where the Host of Faerie flows
Athwart the Hills of Dream.
And a strange song I have heard
By a shadowy stream,
And the singing of a snow-white bird
On the Hills of Dream.