Up a Hill and a Hill

Up a hill and a hill there’s a sudden orchard-slope, And a little tawny field in the sun; There’s a gray wall that coils like a twist of frayed-out rope, And grasses nodding news one to one. Up a hill and a hill there’s a windy place to stand, And between the apple-boughs to find the blue Of the sleepy summer sea, past the cliffs of orange sand, With the white charmed ships sliding through. Up a hill and a hill there’s a little house as gray As a stone that the glaciers scored and stained; With a red rose by the door, and a tangled garden-way, And a face at the window, checker-paned. I could climb, I could climb, till the shoes fell off my feet, Just to find that tawny field above the sea! Up a hill and a hill,—oh, the honeysuckle’s sweet! And the eyes at the window watch for me!