A friend of mine has sent me a poem by Geoffrey Winthrop Young (1876-1958). He was British mountaineer, educationalist and poet - a fascinating man. I don't know the poem's title but I think it has merit and captures something of what I also think about hill-walking, though I haven't climbed Mont Blanc or the Matterhorn wearing woollen mittens, smoking a pipe and carrying a cricket bat.
When I looked on the Net for a modern edition of his collected poems I couldn't find any. Early editions are selling for between $60-$100, which is a bit costly. What do members think of the poem? Have I quoted it correctly? If anyone knows, which volume of G. W. Young's work does it come from? Can anyone point me in the direction of a new-ish - or cheaper - edition of his work. Thanks.
There is much comfort in the high hills
And an easing of the heart.
We look upon them, and our nature fills
With loftier images from their life apart.
They set our feet on curves of freedom, bent
To snap the circles of our discontent.
Mountains are moods; of larger rhythm and line,
Moving between the external mode and mine.
Moments of thought, of which I too am part,
I lose in them my instant of brief ills,
There is a great easing of the heart,
And cumulance of comfort on high hills.