Yonder in the heather there's a bed for sleeping, Drink for one athirst, ripe blackberries to eat; Yonder in the sun the merry hares go leaping, And the pool is clear for travel-wearied feet. Sorely throb my feet, a-tramping London highways, (Ah! the springy moss upon a northern moor!) Through the endless streets, the gloomy squares and byways, Homeless in the City, poor among the poor! London streets are gold - ah, give me leaves a-glinting 'Midst gray dykes and hedges in the autumn sun! London water's wine, poured out for all unstinting - God! For the little brooks that tumble as they run! Oh, my heart is fain to hear the soft wind blowing, Soughing through the fir-tops up on northern fells! Oh, my eye's an ache to see the brown burns flowing Through the peaty soil and tinkling heather-bells.
- by Ada Elizabeth Smith (1875 - 1898), "In city streets" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by (Gerald) Graham Peel (1878 - 1937), "In city streets", published 1924 [voice and piano], Forsyth Bros [text not verified]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2011-04-26
Line count: 16
Word count: 141