 | Forest Notes |  |
10
SOUS LES TOITS DE VERDURE
Beneath the beechen bough
Come now, come now,
O love of happy days,
That we may sit in shadows
And watch the unmown meadows
Far from the bitter ways.
Come now, come now,
O love of happy days,
That we may sit in shadows
And watch the unmown meadows
Far from the bitter ways.
The breath of Summer passes
Across the seeded grasses
To whisper to the trees;
The boughs of Summer, bending,
Give out a sigh unending
Of pleasure to the breeze.
Across the seeded grasses
To whisper to the trees;
The boughs of Summer, bending,
Give out a sigh unending
Of pleasure to the breeze.
11
Here tears mean dew, not sorrow;
Here there is no to-morrow,
No murmur but of bees.
The past, to-day, is far away,
And sighs are sighs of ease.
Here there is no to-morrow,
No murmur but of bees.
The past, to-day, is far away,
And sighs are sighs of ease.
E.
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