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Sara Teasdale - The Long Hill
Work rating: Medium

I must have passed the crest a while ago 
And now I am going down— 
Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know, 
But the brambles were always grabbing at the hem of my gown. 

All the morning I thought how proud I should be 
To stand there straight as a queen, 
Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me— 
But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen. 

It was nearly level along the beaten track 
And the brambles caught in my gown— 
But it`s no use now to think of turning back, 
The rest of the way will be only going down.
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