The Message of the Trees: An Anthology of Leaves and Branches

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Maud Cuney-Hare
Cornhill, 1918 - 190페이지
 

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117 페이지 - THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them — ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication.
48 페이지 - When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain ; And the brown bright nightingale amorous Is half assuaged for Itylus, For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.
117 페이지 - Father, thy hand Hath reared these venerable columns, thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose All these fair ranks of trees.
33 페이지 - And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, Some harshness show, All vain asperities I, day by day, Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the holly tree.
133 페이지 - I last took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew ; And now in the grass behold they are laid, And the tree is my seat that once lent me a shade. The blackbird has fled to another retreat, Where the hazels afford him a screen from the heat...
44 페이지 - To Scotland's heaths ; or those that crossed the sea And drew their sounding bows at Azincour, Perhaps at earlier Crecy, or Poictiers. Of vast circumference and gloom profound This solitary Tree ! — a living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay ; Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed.
180 페이지 - THE LAST LEAF I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found 10 By the Crier on his round Through the town.
108 페이지 - Old Yew, which graspest at the stones That name the under-lying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bones. The seasons bring the flower again, And bring the firstling to the flock; And in the dusk of thee, the clock Beats out the little lives of men.
65 페이지 - The lightest wind was in its nest, The tempest in its home. The whispering waves were half asleep, The clouds were gone to play, And on the bosom of the deep The smile of Heaven lay...
66 페이지 - twere a little sky Gulfed in a world below ; A firmament of purple light, Which in the dark earth lay, More boundless than the depth of night, And purer than the day— In which the lovely forests grew, As in the upper air, More perfect both in shape and hue Than any spreading there.

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