Oh, to be out in the wild, fresh breezes, Borne on the breast of the wind away,Wandering whither my fancy pleases: Oh, to be out on the hills to-day!
Just to gather the sweet wild flowers, Smiling up from the dewy grass;To bury my face in the golden showers Of wattles whispering as I pass!
Just to thrill with the bliss of being, Singing my heart out in the sun,Glad with the simple joy of seeing, Free as the brooks that seaward run!
Oh, to roam where the sun is shining, Down where the everlastings grow,Up where the musk-leaves" silver lining Gleams in the light of the golden glow;Up where the peaks of the purple mountains Stand like sentinels guarding all,And the distant splash of the flowing fountains Stirs my blood like a bugle-call.
There, I know, are the glad birds singing Rippling carols of love and mirth; There, I know, are the blue-bells ringingFairy music o"er the earth.
-Marion Miller KnoWles
Drawn by John Rowell
Out on the Hills
About the Author.-Mrs. Marion Miller KnoWles, formerly Miss Marion Miller, was born in Gippsland, Victoria. She was for a time a teacher in State schools. She has written verse and prose for many newspapers and magazines, and also several books, of which the titles are Songs from the Hills, Country Sketches, Fronds from the Black Spur, Roses on the Window Sill, etc.
About the Poem.-Where and when does the wattle bloom? Name all the kinds of wattle you know. What flowers other than wattle-blossoms are mentioned in the poem? When are mountains purple? Why are they like sentinels? What are "flowing mountains"? What are "rippling carols"?
