High o'er the hills of Habersham, Veiling the valleys of Hall, The hickory told me manifold Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, O'erleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, Said, "Pass not, so cold, these manifold Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, These glades in the valleys of Hall."
And oft in the hills of Habersham, And oft in the valleys of Hall, The white quartz shone, and the smooth brookstone Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl, And many a luminous jewel lone --Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, Ruby, garnet, and amethyst-- Made lures with the lights of streaming stone, In the clefts of the hills of Habersham, In the beds of the valleys of Hall.
But oh, not the hills of Habersham, And oh, not the valleys of Hall Avail: I am fain for to water the plain. Downward the voices of Duty call-- Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main. The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn, And a myriad flowers mortally yearn, And the lordly main from beyond the plain Calls o'er the hills of Habersham, Calls through the valleys of Hall.
[Footnote *: Used by special permission of the publishers, Charles Scribner's Sons.]
When Mary Ann Dollinger got the skule daown thar on Injun Bay I was glad, fer I like ter see a gal makin' her honest way, I heerd some talk in the village abaout her flyin' high, Tew high for busy farmer folks with chores ter dew ter fly; But I paid no sorter attention ter all the talk ontell She come in her reg-lar boardin' raound ter visit with us a spell. My Jake an' her has been cronies ever since they could walk, An' it tuk me aback ter hear her kerrectin' him in his talk.
Jake ain't no hand at grammar, though he hain't his beat for work; But I sez ter myself, "Look out, my gal, yer a-foolin' with a Turk!" Jake bore it wonderful patient, an' said in a mournful way, He p'sumed he was behindhand with the doin's at Injun Bay. I remember once he was askin' for some o' my Injun buns, An' she said he should allus say, "them air," stid o' "them is" the ones. Wal, Mary Ann kep' at him stiddy mornin' an' evenin' long, Tell he dassent open his mouth for fear o' talkin' wrong.