Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, REST, by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

REST, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The hills call, the dew-glad morning hills
Last Line: The mother hills where weary men find sleep.
Alternate Author Name(s): Burt, Struthers
Subject(s): Mountains; Rest; Hills; Downs (great Britain)


THE hills call, the dew-glad morning hills,
Above the dust and fever of the plain;
Could I lay aside my yoke of old-time weariness;
Could I take my staff and seek the hills again;
The far hills where dawn is sweet with rain.

After much thirst, much hungering at nightfall,
When the long way beyond my striving seems,
Would there come suddenly the keen, sweet breath of valleys,
And, afar off, the sound of twilight streams,
In quiet hills where dusk is cool with dreams?

The murmuring of rivers and the wind,
A starlit place of shadows, liquid, deep;
Ah, and a night of infinite forgetting,
Night of the calm great hills that vigil keep;
The mother hills where weary men find sleep.





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