The Wife by Helen Cowles Le Cron Lyrics

I am young, O shaggy mountains; I am young and you are old;
You are mighty, brooding pines, and I am small;
And your great, gaunt shadows crush me with a horror still and cold,
And your sullen silence holds me like a pall.

Just today I went for water to a little silver spring
Where the air was sweet and scarlet berries grew;
And my dreams came flocking homeward and my haunting fears took wing
Till the night crawled forth to meet me. Then I knew.

I am stranger to your silence; I am alien to your might;
I am longing for a little, laughing world
Where the days went dancing past me, for my heart was very light, -
And from many friendly hearths the smoke upcurled.

Yet he loves you, lonely mountains, and he says he loves me too,
And his cabin nestles trusting at your feet;
But my heart is torn with longing for the gentle land I knew -
And the careless hours when life was very sweet,

Will you always frown on me through the weary, weary years
Till my dream-home fades to silence and to night?
I was gay, O brooding mountains, till you taught me pain and tears.
I am alien to your solitude and might.