Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature By Charles Mackay |
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THE SIGH OF THE PINE-TREES. |
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 | Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature |  |
157
THE SIGH OF THE PINE-TREES.
I know what the forest saith,
The forest of dark-green pines,
That are moved by the wild wind's breath,
When the cold clear starlight shines,
And the tides of the deep air-ocean
Come rolling through their lines.
The forest of dark-green pines,
That are moved by the wild wind's breath,
When the cold clear starlight shines,
And the tides of the deep air-ocean
Come rolling through their lines.
I know, but I cannot tell,
For want of the mystic speech,
And the words ineffable,
That Wisdom cannot teach,
Even on her highest mountain
Where she sits beyond our reach.
For want of the mystic speech,
And the words ineffable,
That Wisdom cannot teach,
Even on her highest mountain
Where she sits beyond our reach.
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But I listen all night long
To the low eternal sigh—
To the melancholy song,
Burthened with mysteries high—
Earth-moanings set to music
On the harps of the upper sky.
To the low eternal sigh—
To the melancholy song,
Burthened with mysteries high—
Earth-moanings set to music
On the harps of the upper sky.
I listen all night through,
And ever and ever I hear
One word that seems as two,
And two that mingle clear
Into a third low whisper,
Far off, but drawing near.
And ever and ever I hear
One word that seems as two,
And two that mingle clear
Into a third low whisper,
Far off, but drawing near.
I feel what the forest sings
With its weird unearthly breath:—
Three thoughts—three words—three things:
Sorrow and Love and Death.
The mystery! the mystery!
Behold what the pine-tree saith!
With its weird unearthly breath:—
Three thoughts—three words—three things:
Sorrow and Love and Death.
The mystery! the mystery!
Behold what the pine-tree saith!
| Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature | |