The Hills of Sewanee

Sewanee Hills of dear delight,
    Prompting my dreams that used to be,
I know you are waiting me still to-night
    By the Unika Range of Tennessee.

The blinking stars in endless space,
    The broad moonlight and silvery gleams,
To-night caress your wind-swept face,
    And fold you in a thousand dreams.

Your far outlines, less seen than felt,
    Which wind with hill propensities,
In moonlight dreams I see you melt
    Away in vague immensities.

And, far away, I still can feel
    Your mystery that ever speaks
Of vanished things, as shadows steal
    Across your breast and rugged peaks.

O, dear blue hills, that lie apart,
    And wait so patiently down there,
Your peace takes hold upon my heart
    And makes its burden less to bear.

From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922) edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.