 | Forest Notes |  |
73
LO, WHAT IS LOVE?
Lo, what is love? A dreamer in a sleep,
Who dreaming sees, though waking still is blind;
He sees the yellow sheaves the reapers bind;
He hears the song that rises as they reap.
Lo, what is love? A toiler on a steep,
Who upward strains where lonely pathways wind
To reach the summit never foot may find,
To catch the song no mortal ear may keep.
Who dreaming sees, though waking still is blind;
He sees the yellow sheaves the reapers bind;
He hears the song that rises as they reap.
Lo, what is love? A toiler on a steep,
Who upward strains where lonely pathways wind
To reach the summit never foot may find,
To catch the song no mortal ear may keep.
Lo, what is love? A shell upon the sands
Whose tenants are the echo and the breeze;
But he who takes it, listening, in his hands
Shall hear the murmur of eternal seas;
The voice of stars that sing o'er harvest lands,
The music vast of human mysteries.
Whose tenants are the echo and the breeze;
But he who takes it, listening, in his hands
Shall hear the murmur of eternal seas;
The voice of stars that sing o'er harvest lands,
The music vast of human mysteries.
A.
| Forest Notes | |