Over the HIlls

Over the HIlls.
115.5

Over the bills and far away
A little boy steals from his mornfug’s play,
And under the blossoming apple tree
He lies and he dreams of the things to be;
Of battles fought and of victories won.
Of wrongs o’erthrown and of great deeds
done-

Of the valor that he shall prove some day,
Over the hills and far away-
Over the hills and far away!

Over the hills and far away
It’s, oh, for the toll the livelong day!
But it mattered not to the soul aflame
With a love for riches and power and
fame!
On, oh, man: while the sun is high-
On to the certain foys that lle
Yonder where blazeth the noon of day!
Over the bills and far away-
Over the hills and far away!

Over the hills and far away
An old man lingers at close of dny:
Now that his journey is almost done,
His battles fought and his victories won-
The old time honesty and truth.
The trustfulness and the friends of youth,
Home and mother-where are they?
Over the bills and far away?
Over the hills and far away!
-Eugene Field