The long hill

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 catching 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 path

And the brambles caught in my gown

But it's no use now to think of turning back

The rest of the way will only be going down.