 | At Sunset |  |
123
AMONG MY TREES
Hail, thou hundred-handed pine,
Swaying with a grace divine,
Light and heat and air receiving,
Beauty and soft fragrance giving.
Swaying with a grace divine,
Light and heat and air receiving,
Beauty and soft fragrance giving.
Teach us music, songful birds,
With your seconds and your thirds;
Melodies intangible;
From past times infrangible;
You could tell us if you dared,
If you only knew we cared;
With your seconds and your thirds;
Melodies intangible;
From past times infrangible;
You could tell us if you dared,
If you only knew we cared;
Handing down the mystery
Of timeless human history
That unwritten never was,
Never told its end or cause.
Of timeless human history
That unwritten never was,
Never told its end or cause.
| At Sunset | |