Soft vapour encloses the blue open space,
And veils with a touch the hard rocky face;
The clouds from below billow up unaware,
The mists on the mountain and the rain in my hair.
The birds in their cover are hidden away,
Each one with its lover till break of day;
Alone on the hill-top I wander, apart,
The mist's on the mountain, and the ache in my heart.
The trees softly bending, half seen through the gloom,
Enclose with leaves a sweet sylvan room,
Where mothers lean over, caressing and wise,
The mist's on the mountain, and tears in my eyes.
Deep silence around, ethereal and rare,
Brings joy without sound, and stills earthly care;
The clouds circle on in their heavenly scroll,
The mist's on the mountain, and peace in my soul.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 7 February 1925
Author: nothing is known about the author of this poem.
And veils with a touch the hard rocky face;
The clouds from below billow up unaware,
The mists on the mountain and the rain in my hair.
The birds in their cover are hidden away,
Each one with its lover till break of day;
Alone on the hill-top I wander, apart,
The mist's on the mountain, and the ache in my heart.
The trees softly bending, half seen through the gloom,
Enclose with leaves a sweet sylvan room,
Where mothers lean over, caressing and wise,
The mist's on the mountain, and tears in my eyes.
Deep silence around, ethereal and rare,
Brings joy without sound, and stills earthly care;
The clouds circle on in their heavenly scroll,
The mist's on the mountain, and peace in my soul.
First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 7 February 1925
Author: nothing is known about the author of this poem.
