 | Forest Notes |  |
92
LIFE
For Life is a song and a silence,
A rapture of mounting wings;
The scent and the tint of the sunrise,
The light that the dewdrop flings;
The pause and the leap of the fountain,
The span of the rainbow's rings;
The dream, and the sleep that is dreamless,
The blossom of countless springs.
A rapture of mounting wings;
The scent and the tint of the sunrise,
The light that the dewdrop flings;
The pause and the leap of the fountain,
The span of the rainbow's rings;
The dream, and the sleep that is dreamless,
The blossom of countless springs.
For life is a cry and a waking,
The touch of a hand unknown;
A bough that is shaken by tempest,
A harvest by aliens sown.
'Tis a bird whose wings have been broken,
A wind that waileth alone,
A Vision, a Fear, and a Wonder;
A name on a crumbling stone.
The touch of a hand unknown;
A bough that is shaken by tempest,
A harvest by aliens sown.
A wind that waileth alone,
A Vision, a Fear, and a Wonder;
A name on a crumbling stone.
But if Life hold vision of sunrise,
Or portents of night that appal;
If it moan with the moan of the storm-wind,
Or echo bird voices that call;—
Yet its song that is sung is sweeter
For tears that in silence fall,
And the anguish of Life is nobler
Than Death that has frozen all.
Or portents of night that appal;
If it moan with the moan of the storm-wind,
Or echo bird voices that call;—
Yet its song that is sung is sweeter
For tears that in silence fall,
And the anguish of Life is nobler
Than Death that has frozen all.
A.
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