400 A Sportswoman in India 



our finite clods ; the regret is known to many, and 

 even those who never leave England feel the trammels 

 of conventionalities and shams, have longed to be for 

 a space entirely themselves, rid of appearances, in 

 some 



Waste and desert places, where we taste 



The pleasure of believing what we see is boundless, 



As we wish our souls to be. 



Is this infinite want in man the result of that so seldom 

 satisfied demand which is eternally made upon human 

 nature ? 



Where forlorn sunsets flare and fade 



On desolate sea and lonely sand, 

 Out of the silence and the shade, 



What is the voice of strange command 

 Calling you still as friend calls friend 



With love that cannot brook delay, 

 To rise and follow the ways that wend 



Over the hills and far away ? 



Hark ! in the city, street on street, 



A roaring reach of death and life, 

 Of vortices that clash and fleet 



And ruin in appointed strife. 

 Hark to it calling, calling clear, 



Calling, until you cannot stay, 

 From dearer things than your own most dear 



Over the hills and far away. 



Out of the sound of ebb and flow, 



Out of the sight of lamp and star, 

 It calls you where the good winds blow, 



And the unchanging meadows are : 



