I lay beneath the pine trees,
And looked aloft, where, through
The dusky, clustered tree-tops,
Gleamed rent, gay rifts of blue.
I shut my eyes, and a fancy
Fluttered my sense around:
"I lie here dead and buried,
And this is churchyard ground.
"I am at rest for ever;
Ended the stress and strife."
Straight I fell to and sorrowed
For the pitiful past life.
Right wronged, and knowledge wasted;
Wise labour spurned for ease;
The sloth and the sin and the failure;
Did I grow sad for these?
They had made me sad so often;
Not now they made me sad;
My heart was full of sorrow
For joy it never had.
In The Black Forest
Amy Levy
(1)
Poem topics: heart, joy, life, never, sorrow, tree, blue, wise, sense, failure, knowledge, straight, stress, labour, beneath, strife, sad, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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soup moop: i like this poem
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