Away from the din of the city, The dust and grime of the street, The hurry and press of the restless throng, And the trample of many feet. Out where the sunshine is brighter, Out where the wind blows free. Trees and rivers and lakes and hills Are calling, calling me. I long for the wide expanse of fields Where the calm of the silent night Throws a mantle of peace o'er the weary heart And the cares of the day take flight; For the whispering voice of summer winds And the sparkle of dew on the lea, And trees and rivers and lakes and hills That are calling, calling me. Then give me a house in a quiet nook At the end of a winding lane Where the sunshine bright and the moonbeams' glow Can steal through my window pane And the trill of a bird from his leafy bower And the scent of up-turned sod Will bring me close to the things I love, Nature and peace and God. |