 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
IV.
And as I slept I dreamed a fearful dream:—It seemed to me that I was standing here,
The sky was sunless, and I saw anear
All you, my sisters, lying dead and crushed.
I could not hear the music of the stream
That runs hard by, when suddenly there rushed
A giant Wind adown the garden walk,
And all the great old Trees began to talk,
And cried, “What does the Rose here? Bid her go,
Lest buried she should be in coming snow.”
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |