Summit And Vale
The light hangs over the mountain top,
But gray and misty the plain;
The sun’s a-glow in eternal snow,
But down in the valley, the rain.
And life is so, the sun a-glow
On the mountains far, while the rain’s below.
Today I saw a thing of arresting poignant beauty:
A strong young tree, brave in its Autumn finery
Of scarlet and burnt umber and flame yellow,
Bending beneath a weight of early snow,
Which sheathed the north side of its slender trunk,
And spread a heavy white chilly afghan
Over its crested leaves.
Oh, drink thou deep of the purple wine,
And it’s hey for love, for I love you so!
Oh, clasp me close, with your lips on mine,
And it’s hey for love, for I love you so!
The sea lies violet, deep, and wide,
My heart beats high with the rushing tide;
Was it fancy, beloved, the seagulls cried:
If I could write a tale to-night,
A tale of thrilling things;
A spice of love, a bit of fight,
The clink of wedding rings,
The villain’s death, and all end right,
If I could write a tale to-night.