English poetry

Poets Biographies Poems by Themes Random Poem
The Rating of Poets The Rating of Poems

Poem by Duncan Campbell Scott


The Hill Path


        TO H.D.S.

Are the little breezes blind,
They that push me as they pass?
Do they search the tangled grass
For some path they want to find?
Take my fingers, little wind;
You are all alone, and I
Am alone too. I will guide,
You will follow; let us go
By a pathway that I know,
Leading down the steep hillside,
Past the little sharp-lipped pools,
Shrunken with the summer sun,
Where the sparrows come to drink;
And well scare the little birds,
Coming on them unawares;
And the daisies every one
We will startle on the brink
Of a doze.
(Gently, gently, little wind),
Very soon a wood well see,
There my lover waits for me.
(Go more gently, little wind,
You should follow soft, behind.)
You will hear my lover say
How he loves me night and day,
But his words you must not tell
To the other little winds,
For they all might come to hear,
And might rustle through the wood,
And disturb the solitude.
(Blow more softly, little wind,
You are tossing all my hair,
Go more gently, have a care;
If you lead you cant be blind,
So,--good-bye:)
There he goes: I see his feet
On the grass;
Now the little pools are blurred
As they pass;
And he must be very fleet,
For I see the bushes stirred
Near the wood. I hope hell tell,
If he isnt out of breath,
That he met me on the hill.
But I hope he will not say
That he kissed me for good-bye
Just before he flew away.



Duncan Campbell Scott


Duncan Campbell Scott's other poems:
  1. The Voice and the Dusk
  2. At Scarboro Beach
  3. The River Town
  4. The Sea by the Wood
  5. From the Farm on the Hill


Poem to print Print

1015 Views



Last Poems


To Russian version


@Mail.ru

English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru