Afternoon on a Hill
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

 I will be the gladdest thing
   Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
   And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
   With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
   And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
   Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
   And then start down! 


(I hate the word "gladdest" and this isn't my favorite of Millay's poems, 
but I have stood on this hill and visited Millay's house, and the poem 
recreates a lovely memory.)