A dreamer on the hillside, in late September's glow,
Looked down upon the valley that lay serene below.
The blue wood-smoke upcurling, the fresh brown earth up-
turned,
The winding road where dully the dusky sumac burned,-
All these and more he saw not, for past its farthest rim
The land beyond the valley was beckoning to him.
-From "The Land Beyond The Valley" by Esther Mary Clark Hill
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