Gaily afield, this morning of the skies, From earth's wide bowl a blessed draught I draw, -- Air of the hilltops! air the sun first saw Dimpling to greet him; air that flits and flies From where the pond to where the meadow lies; Crystalline air, that has no fleck or flaw; Runaway air, itself its own best law, Wild as the brooks from upland rocks that rise. Bring me, sweet air, the courage of the hills. A weary day's before me; murmur low The meadow-charm that masters frets and ills, The healthful secret that the woodlands know. With all the daring joy of mountain rills Into my surly, stagnant living flow! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GENERAL PUBLIC by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET TO GALLANT FRANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO THE MEMORY OF INEZ MILHOLLAND by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 4. THE LOTTERY GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR |