 | Sonnets, Lyrics and Translations |  |
19
THE FIR GROVE Continued
THE AXE FORBIDDEN.
That belt of pines is dearer to his heart,Than all the busy interests of life;
Since, on that festal morn, he saw the dart
Of heaven descending on his plighted wife.
No axe comes there; the trees extend their shade;
His loving sorrow interdicts their fall,
And warns the woodman from the holy glade;
The death of Agnes has redeem'd them all!
Yon small white gate, deep-set in living green,
Through which she pass'd,—alas! without return,—
Though distant, oft in sunny gleams is seen;
Or when, before the rain, the sacred grove
Comes looming up, surcharg'd with death and love,
And bids the little gate stand forth and mourn!
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