Lovers' Lane
This cool quiet of trees
In the grey dusk of the north,
In the green half-dusk of the west,
Where fires still glow;
These glimmering fantasies
Of foliage branching forth
And drooping into rest;
Ye lovers, know
That in your wanderings
Beneath this arching brake
Ye must attune your love
To hushed words.
For here is the dreaming wisdom of
The unmovable things . . .
And more:– walk softly, lest ye wake
A thousand sleeping birds.
~~
Thomas Moult (1893-1974)
from Down Here the Hawthorne, 1921
[Poem is in the public domain in the United States]
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