Poetry Archives

Could Fate ordain a lot for me
           Beyond all human ills,
I think that I would choose to be
           A shephard of the hills;
With shaggy cloak and cape where skies
           Eternally are blue
How I would stare with quiet eyes
                    At passing you!

And you would stare at static me,
           Beside my patient flock;
And I would watch you silently,
           A one with time and rock.
Then foreign farings you would chart,
           And fly with fearsome wings,
While I would bide to be a part
           Of elemental things.

Yet strangely I would have it so,
           Since I am kin to these,—
To heather heath and bloom ablow,
           And peaks and piney trees.
As diamond star at evenfall,
           And pearly morning mist
Sing in my veins, myself I call
           An Elementalist.

So as in city dirt and din
           I push a grubby pen,
And toil, my bed and board to win,
           I hate the haunts of men.
Beyond brick wall I seem to see
           Fern dells and rocky rills . . .
O crazy dream! O God, to be
           A shephard of the hills!