English poem
On the Mountain
by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay (1875–1928)
THE top of the world and an empty morning, Mist sweeping in from the dim Outside, The door of day just a little bit open— The wind's great laugh as he flings it wide!
O wind, here's one who would travel with you To the far bourne you alone may know— There would I seek what some one is hiding, There would I find where my longings go!
To some deep calm would I drift and nestle Close to the heart of the Great Surprise. O strong wind, do you laugh to see us? We are so little and oh, so wise!