MALCOLM HUMPHREY
Lance-Corporal, A.O.C. (B.E.F., Nairobi, British East Africa)
Hills of Home
OH! you hills are filled with sunlight, and the green leaves paled to gold,
And the smoking mists of Autumn hanging faintly o'er the wold;
I dream of hills of other days whose sides I loved to roam
When Spring was dancing through the lanes of those distant hills of home.
The winds of heaven gathered there as pure and cold as dew;
Wood-sorrel and wild violets along the hedgerows grew,
The blossom on the pear-trees was as white as flakes of foam
In the orchard 'neath the shadow of those distant hills of home.
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