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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 11, Issue 8 (November 2, 1936)

Unto The Hills

Unto The Hills.

I will turn my feet to the hills where green woods grow,
For the years fly fast,
Bearing my youth away; but the winds still blow
In the woods, as in days long past.
I will turn my feet to the woods,
where sweet birds sing
Their ageless song;
And Time will pause on his shining silver wing,
And the golden days grow long.
I will turn my feet to the hills, where cool streams flow;
I will rest and dream,
While the radiant hopes and visions of long ago
Glide by on the silent stream.
I will turn my feet to the woods, for shadows fall
And youth flies fast;
And there, where cool streams flow and swift birds call,
I shall find peace at last.

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