by Mary Coleridge (1861 - 1907)

O the high valley, the little low hill
Language: English 
O the high valley, the little low hill,
  And the cornfield over the sea,
The wind that rages and then lies still,
  And the clouds that rest and flee!

O the grey island in the rainbow haze,
  And the long thin spits of land,
The roughening pastures and the stony ways,
  And the golden flash of the sand!

O the red heather on the moss-wrought rock,
  And the fir-tree stiff and straight,
The shaggy old sheep-dog barking at the flock,
  And the rotten old five-barred gate!

O the brown bracken, the black-berry bough,
  The scent of the gorse in the air!
I shall love them ever as I love them now,
  I shall weary in Heaven to be there!

R. Quilter sets stanzas 1-2, 4

About the headline (FAQ)


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Researcher for this text: Ted Perry

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 119