The long trail calls! It is out and over the mountain wall. Stubborn the fight for the crowded pass— The sheer swift fall, the boulder's mass; The night's sick howl, the sleepless tread; The blue wood-smoke and the campfire's red, With the covered wagon drawn near the blaze, The harness at hand, while the halter plays A length away where the restless feet Startle the thickets and, sudden and fleet, Small woodland wild things scurry. Afar The hoot of the owl. Thro' the treetops a star. So the pass is won; and the ridges leap Away below into swing and sweep, With cradled valleys rich and warm Whose festal promise out-weighs the storm. New walls lift fair and home-lights glow; Marigolds bourgeon and touch-me-nots blow From the open door. The orchards swing Up the nearer slopes and the harvests ring With gold the valley. The long-drawn sheds Murmur of comfort, the majestic tread Of lordly stallions, of herds that pass, Where the slopes sink down to the long blue grass. But the snows come soon and the snows lie late. The corn stands nipt and the blazing grate Speaks of black frost. The cattle low In the scanty stalks and the spent ricks show The huddled sheep; while far and white The snows drift deep thro' the closing night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-DEPENDENCE by MATTHEW ARNOLD TOMORROW by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD A FANCY FROM FONTENELLE by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON SONNET: TO FANNY by JOHN KEATS FARM-YARD SONG by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE A CRADLE SONG by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS EPITAPH ON SUSANNAH BARBAULD MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |