THE distant hills are gleaming gold, Ashine with slopes of goldenrod, And far and high above them sounds The golden laughter of a god. But laughter of the gods is faint, And goldenrod grows grey in rain, And they were naught to me, could I But hear your golden songs again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FEAST OF LIGHTS by EMMA LAZARUS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |