THE HILLS OF SEWANEE

by: George Marion McClellan

      EWANEE Hills of dear delight,
      Prompting my dreams that used to be,
      I know you are waiting me still to-night
      By the Unika Range of Tennessee.
       
      The blinking stars in endless space,
      The broad moonlight and silvery gleams,
      To-night caress your wind-swept face,
      And fold you in a thousand dreams.
       
      Your far outlines, less seen than felt,
      Which wind with hill propensities,
      In moonlight dreams I see you melt
      Away in vague immensities.
       
      And, far away, I still can feel
      Your mystery that ever speaks
      Of vanished things, as shadows steal
      Across your breast and rugged peaks.
       
      O, dear blue hills, that lie apart,
      And wait so patiently down there,
      Your peace takes hold upon my heart
      And makes its burden less to bear.

"The Hills of Sewanee" is reprinted from The Book of American Negro Poetry. Ed. James Weldon Johnson. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1922.

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