A Pathway In the Hills
A winding pathway up the hills
My weary eyes can see,
It ambles up a rocky ledge
Then turns away from me;
Beckoning to the horizon
It canters on its way,
Soft grass and dewdrops lacing it
Gay butterflies at play;
Vanishing beyond the ridge it
Drops to the other side,
Where a meadow I fathom lies
With greenness astride;
It cajoles me to follow it
Through mist and dappled light,
Till breathless on the windy peak
I see a heartening sight;
Grey wisps of smoke through chimneys quaint
From cosy homesteads warm,
Seems kind invitation I ought
Accept without a qualm.
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