IN A FORGOTTEN BURYING-GROUND
Eternal in the brooding of the old Norwegian sprucesI hear the wistful tenderness of loves They used to know,And in the swelling wood-notes that the eager springtide loosesSobs again Their heart-break from the Springs of Long Ago:And sometime, thro’ the silence, with the April shadows lyingAslant the solemn acre where I take my dreamless rest,Perhaps the stifled need of You my heart was ever cryingWill find its way across the years—to stir a stranger’s breast!The Poetry JournalRuth Guthrie Harding
Eternal in the brooding of the old Norwegian sprucesI hear the wistful tenderness of loves They used to know,And in the swelling wood-notes that the eager springtide loosesSobs again Their heart-break from the Springs of Long Ago:And sometime, thro’ the silence, with the April shadows lyingAslant the solemn acre where I take my dreamless rest,Perhaps the stifled need of You my heart was ever cryingWill find its way across the years—to stir a stranger’s breast!The Poetry JournalRuth Guthrie Harding
Eternal in the brooding of the old Norwegian sprucesI hear the wistful tenderness of loves They used to know,And in the swelling wood-notes that the eager springtide loosesSobs again Their heart-break from the Springs of Long Ago:
Eternal in the brooding of the old Norwegian spruces
I hear the wistful tenderness of loves They used to know,
And in the swelling wood-notes that the eager springtide looses
Sobs again Their heart-break from the Springs of Long Ago:
And sometime, thro’ the silence, with the April shadows lyingAslant the solemn acre where I take my dreamless rest,Perhaps the stifled need of You my heart was ever cryingWill find its way across the years—to stir a stranger’s breast!
And sometime, thro’ the silence, with the April shadows lying
Aslant the solemn acre where I take my dreamless rest,
Perhaps the stifled need of You my heart was ever crying
Will find its way across the years—to stir a stranger’s breast!
The Poetry JournalRuth Guthrie Harding