SINCE I left the city's heat <br />For this sylvan, cool retreat, <br />High upon the hill-side here <br />Where the air is clean and clear, <br />I have lost the urban ways. <br />Mine are calm and tranquil days, <br />Sloping lawns of green are mine, <br />Clustered treasures of the vine; <br />Long forgotten plants I know, <br />Where the best wild berries grow, <br />Where the greens and grasses sprout, <br />When the elders blossom out. <br />Now I am grown weather-wise <br />With the love of winds and skies. <br />Mine the song whose soft refrain <br />Is the sigh of summer rain. <br />Seek you where the woods are cool, <br />Would you know the shady pool <br />Where, throughout the lazy day, <br />Speckled beauties drowse or play? <br />Would you find in rest or peace <br />Sorrow's permanent release? — <br />Leave the city, grim and gray, <br />Come with me, ah, come away. <br />Do you fear the winter chill, <br />Deeps of snow upon the hill? <br />'Tis a mantle, kind and warm, <br />Shielding tender shoots from harm. <br />Do you dread the ice-clad streams, — <br />They are mirrors for your dreams. <br />Here's a rouse, when summer's past <br />To the raging winter's blast. <br />Let him roar and let him rout, <br />We are armored for the bout. <br />How the logs are glowing, see! <br />Who sings louder, they or he? <br />Could the city be more gay? <br />Burn your bridges! Come away!<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-lofting-holt/
