Swags Up! And Yet I Turn Upon The Way. The Yellow Hill Against A Dapple Sky, With Tufts And Clumps Of Thorn, The Bush Whereby All Through The Wonder-Pregnant Night I Lay Until The Silver Stars Were Merged In Grey Our Fragrant Camp, Demand A Parting Sigh: New Tracks, New Camps, And Hearts For Ever High, Yet Brief Regret With Every Welcome Day. Dear Dreamy Earth, Receding Flickering Lamp, Dear Dust Wherein I Found This Night A Home, Still For A Memory'S Sake I Turn And Cling, Then Take The Road For Many A Distant Camp, Among What Hills, By What Pale Whispering Foam, With Eager Faith For Ever Wandering.