from In a Garden
I
What is the world trying to say?
Why is the light so tender and grey —
Why are the tremulous leaves a-sway
On the trees new fledge with the faintest green?
Nay, he were wise who could say what these things mean,
and tell the secret of May.
What is my heart trying to say?
Why does it tremble and hurry and stay
At the sight of a leaf on a sunny day,
Of a leaf tho' never so delicate-green?
Nay, he were wise who could say what these things mean,
and tell the secret of May.
~~
H.C. Beeching (1859-1919)
from In a Garden, and other poems, 1895
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
H.C. Beeching biography
I
What is the world trying to say?
Why is the light so tender and grey —
Why are the tremulous leaves a-sway
On the trees new fledge with the faintest green?
Nay, he were wise who could say what these things mean,
and tell the secret of May.
What is my heart trying to say?
Why does it tremble and hurry and stay
At the sight of a leaf on a sunny day,
Of a leaf tho' never so delicate-green?
Nay, he were wise who could say what these things mean,
and tell the secret of May.
~~
H.C. Beeching (1859-1919)
from In a Garden, and other poems, 1895
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
H.C. Beeching biography
No comments:
Post a Comment