Classic Poem

Where forlorn sunsets flare and fade
— On desolate sea and lonely sand,
Out of the silence and the shade
— What is the voice of strange command
Calling you still, as friend calls friend
— With love that cannot brook delay,
To rise and follow the ways that wend
— Over the hills and far away?

Hark to the city, street on street
— A roaring reach of death and life,
Of vortices that clash and fleet
— And ruin in appointed strife;
Hark to it calling, calling clear,
— Calling until you cannot stay,
From dearer things than your own most dear
— Over the hills and far away.

Out of the sound of the ebb-and-flow,
— Out of the sight of lamp and star,
It calls you where the good winds blow,
— And the unchanging meadows are;
From faded hopes and hopes agleam,
— It calls you, calls you night and day
Beyond the dark, into the dream
— Over the hills and far away.