Sara Teasdale: The Long Hill

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 track  And the brambles caught in my gown — But it's no use now to think of turning back,  The rest of the way will be only going down.