| George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917. |
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| 107. Hills of Home |
| | | By Malcolm Hemphrey |
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| OH! yon hills are filled with sunlight, and the green leaves paled to gold, | |
| 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. | |
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| The winds of heaven gathered there as pure and cold as dew; | 5 |
| 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. | |
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| The first white frost in the meadow will be shining there to-day | |
| And the furrowed upland glinting warm beside the woodland way; | 10 |
| 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. | |
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