Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LITTLE HILL, by KATHARINE TYNAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LITTLE HILL, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: There's a little hill, a round green hill, in my own country
Last Line: For the song I knew in the dusk and dew and the little green hill.
Alternate Author Name(s): Hinkson, Katharine Tynan
Subject(s): Ireland; Longing; Memory; Mountains; Irish; Hills; Downs (great Britain)


THERE'S a little hill, a round green hill, in my own country;
And shaped like a little breast it is, so round to see;
Oh, shaped like a little breast it is, so smooth, so mild.
The milky breast of the earth it is, warm for the child.

There's a little hill and a hundred streams flow down its side.
And I would that I might creep there now, creep there and hide,
And drink my fill of the honeyed milk, drink and be full,
And the thirst of the heart be quenched in me in the shadows cool!

There's never a day of the hottest days but you'd find there yet
The plash of the water under your feet and a fragrance wet;
And the water-weeds they stand to their knees in the emerald flow;
And the silver fin of a trout'll be in the pool below.

There's a blackbird, too, in the dusk and dew, and he sings a strain,
Must draw the ache from the weary heart and the fever pain.
Sure, he'll sing his song all the evening long, full of trouble and joy—
The honeyed note and the golden throat and the heart of a boy.

To that little hill in my own country if I might come
And lie at rest on that milky breast in the fields at home!
There's dust in my heart and dust in my throat, and I crying still
For the song I knew in the dusk and dew and the little green hill.





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