 | Concerning Cheapness |  |
THE LAST PINE.
Where the fallow-colored hill
Juts against a cloudy wreath —
Gray the sky, the ground beneath
White with shreds from winter's quill —
Juts against a cloudy wreath —
Gray the sky, the ground beneath
White with shreds from winter's quill —
Holds a pine of giant girth
All alone a patience grim
In the ghastly cold, the dim
Sifted light that wraps the earth
All alone a patience grim
In the ghastly cold, the dim
Sifted light that wraps the earth
Like a soldier strictly charged
Never from his watch to yield:
Long ago was hushed the field,
All his comrades long discharged;
Never from his watch to yield:
Long ago was hushed the field,
All his comrades long discharged;
Solid hangs the icy tear,
Numb his arms with creeping frost,
And his senses four are lost
In a bitter strife to bear:
Numb his arms with creeping frost,
And his senses four are lost
In a bitter strife to bear:
Yet unmoved he keepeth post,
Dim of sight but list'ning still,
Lest across the lonely hill
Call the bugles of the host.
Dim of sight but list'ning still,
Lest across the lonely hill
Call the bugles of the host.
Once upon a silent day
Heaved the tree such breaths profound,
Air was carded into sound;
Thus the pine was heard to say:
Heaved the tree such breaths profound,
Air was carded into sound;
Thus the pine was heard to say:
"One by one,
Though they towered high and wide,
Sank my brothers by my side;
Fell away my friends of youth
Death on them had never ruth.
One by one
Dropped my warming arms of green,
Till I stand of branches lean;
Straight the woodpecker may shoot
From my crown to knotted root:
All is done!
Though they towered high and wide,
Sank my brothers by my side;
Fell away my friends of youth
Death on them had never ruth.
One by one
Dropped my warming arms of green,
Till I stand of branches lean;
Straight the woodpecker may shoot
From my crown to knotted root:
All is done!
"I am past.
Once I dwelt with fellows dear,
Once I felt the green sod near;
Year by year
In the choir of our wood
Crashed a singer where he stood,
And the boughs that rained forever,
Lowest first, then upward ever.
Once I dwelt with fellows dear,
Once I felt the green sod near;
Year by year
In the choir of our wood
Crashed a singer where he stood,
And the boughs that rained forever,
Lowest first, then upward ever.
| Concerning Cheapness | |