OVER THE VALLEYS WE SEE THE LIGHTS

OF THE LONE HILL-FARMS ON THE UPLAND HEIGHTS,

AND HEAR WHEN THE NIGHT'S ALERT WITH RAIN

THE STEADY PULSE OF THE LABOURING TRAIN.

AND AT NIGHT AS WE STAND ON THE FOLLY AND THE FULL MOON LIGHTS THE SKY, THE TIME HAS COME FOR OUR WAY TO PART. THE LIGHTS ON THE HILLS GLIMMER IN THE DISTANCE AND IN THE TOWN THE STREET LAMPS GLOW. THE WINDOWS OF A HUNDRED HUMBLE HOMES GLEAM WITH A WELCOMING WARMTH; AND INSIDE THE HOMES, THE YOUNG HAVE BEEN PUT TO BED AND CHILD-LIKE DREAMS THE OLD HUDDLE CLOSE TO THE FIRE TO DRIVE THE CHILL OF WINTER FROM THEIR ANCIENT BONES, AND IN COSY CHAIRS BY THE FIRESIDE, THE WORKSTAINED AND THE WEARY FIND THEIR REST.