The stillness frets me, and I long to be

Where winds sweep strong and blow tempestuously,

To stand upon some hill-top far away

And face a gathering gale, and let the stress

Of Nature's mood subdue my restlessness.

An impulse seizes me, a mad desire

To tear away that red-browed cliff, to sweep

Its crest of trees and huts into the deep;

To force a gap by axe, or storm, or fire,

And let rush in with motion glad and free

The rolling waves of the wild wondrous sea.

Sometimes I wonder if I am the child

Of calm, law-loving parents, or a stray

From some wild gypsy camp. I cannot stay

Quiet among my fellows; when this wild

Longing for freedom takes me I must fly

To my dear woods and know my liberty.

[Pg 56]

It is this cringing to a social law

That I despise, these changing, senseless forms

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