Classic Poem

The foot-hills called us, green and sweet.
We dallied, but we might not stay,
And all day long we set our feet
In the wind's way.

We climbed with him the wandering trail
Up to the last keen, lonely height
Where snow-peaks clustered, sharp and frail,
Swimming in light.

Sheer on the edge of heaven we dwelt,
And laughed above the blue abyss,
While on my happy lips I felt
Your windy kiss.

You were the spirit of the height,
The breath of sun and air . . .
A bird dipped wing, and, swift and white,
Peace brooded there.