On the Hills
Ford Madox Hueffer
1873 to 1939
Keep your brooding sorrows for dewy-misty hollows.
Here's blue sky and lark song, drink the air. The joy that follows
Drafts of wine o' west wind, o' north wind, o' summer breeze,
Never grape's hath equalled from the wine hills by the summer seas.
Whilst the breezes live, joy shall contrive,
Still to tear asunder, and to scatter near and far
Those nets small and thin
That spider sorrows spin
In the brooding hollows where no breezes are.
Ford Madox Hueffer's On the Hills
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