Hilltop Song

When the lights come out in the cottages Along the shores at eve, And across the darkening water The last pale colours leave; And up from the rock-ridged pasture slopes The sheep-bell tinklings steal, And the folds are shut, and the shepherds Turn to their quiet meal; And even here, on the unfenced height, No journeying wind goes by, But the earth-sweet smells and the home-sweet sounds Mount, like prayer, to the sky; Then from the door of my opened heart Old blindness and pride are driven, Till I know how high is the humble, The dear earth how close to heaven.