Great thoughts, great feelings came to them

The hills of manhood wear a noble face When seen from far; The mist of light from which they take their grace Hides what they are.

A man’s best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet.

Oh glory, that we wrestle So valiantly with Time!

The beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.

But on and up, where Nature’s heart Beats strong amid the hills.

I wandered by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still.