Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/52

 MALCOLM HUMPHREYHEMPHREY [sic]

Hills of Home

H! you hills are filled with sunlight, and the green leaves paled to gold,

And the smoking mists of Autumn hanging faintly o'er the wold;

I dream of hills of other days whose sides I loved to roam

When Spring was dancing through the lanes of those distant hills of home.

The winds of heaven gathered there as pure and cold as dew;

Wood-sorrel and wild violets along the hedgerows grew,

The blossom on the pear-trees was as white as flakes of foam

In the orchard 'neath the shadow of those distant hills of home.

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