George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917.
Malcolm Hemphrey
Hills of Home
O
And the smoking mists of Autumn hanging faintly o’er the wold;
I dream of hills of other days whose sides I loved to roam
When Spring was dancing through the lanes of those distant hills of home.
Wood-sorrel and wild violets along the hedgerows grew,
The blossom on the pear-trees was as white as flakes of foam
In the orchard ’neath the shadow of those distant hills of home.
And the furrowed upland glinting warm beside the woodland way;
There, a bright face and a clear hearth will be waiting when I come,
And my heart is throbbing wildly for those distant hills of home.