Climb to the Hills

When my time comes let there be no grieving;

Climb to the Hills where wind blows through the golden gorse
Shaking the harebells till they shiver.
Listen! Listen to the larks soaring into the high air.

Climb to the Hills, When my time comes let there be no grieving; Climb to the Hills where wind blows through the golden gorse, Shaking the harebells till they shiver. Listen! Listen to the larks soaring into the high air. Poem by Mary Dawson Jeffries UK.
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