large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_02_stein_64kb_8
large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_02_stein_64kb
English
11091
Did we not weary with a nameless grief, In dreaming of tall clover, daisy sown, Or music blown From the wind harping of some little leaf? DID WE NAW WEARY WITH A NAMELESS GRIEF IN DREAMING OF TALL CLOVER DAISY SONG OR MUSIC BLOWN FROM THE WIND HARPING OF SOME LITTLE LEAF
art._ _Ah therefore, thou, I pray thee, touch These frail threads I have spun, With grace of sympathy, for such Might light them like the sun!_ _AMONG THE TREES AGAIN_ Aye, throb, my heart! is it not sweet to be, To breathe, to bide, by growing things once more! We did not guess before How close our life was locked in greenery. Hark! how the sparrows in the apple tree Are chattering, chirping, till their tiny throats Are fairly brimmed and quivering through and through With rollick notes! Good morrow, little birds! Good morrow! morrow!—O, I would I knew Some light-winged language, kindred singing words Wherein to say This day, this day, at last this happy day I come to be a neighbor unto you! Too long, too long, we heard strange footsteps pass, Harsh, strident echoes stricken out of stone; But never softened by green, growing grass, Or mellowed to faint, earthy undertone. And then, O heart, Did we not ofttimes feel ourselves apart, Alone, Wrought to vague discord by some touch unknown?  AMONG THE TREES AGAIN BY EVELIN STEYNE READ FOR LIBER VOXTA ORG BY SILVESTER LAND I THROB MY HEART IS IT NOT SWEET TO BE TO BREATHE TO BIND BY GROWING THINGS ONCE MORE WE DID NOT GUESS BEFORE HOW CLOSE OUR LIFE WAS LOCKED IN GREENERY HARK HOW THE SPARROWS IN THE APPLE TREE ARE CHATTERING CHIRPING TILL THEIR TINY THROATS ARE FAIRLY BRIMMED AND QUIVERING THROUGH AND THROUGH WITH ROLLICK NOTES GOOD MORAL LITTLE BIRDS GOOD MORROW MORROW OH I WOULD I KNEW SOME LIGHT WINGED LANGUAGE KINDRED SINGING WORDS WHEREIN TO SAY THIS DAY THIS DAY AT LAST THIS HAPPY DAY I COME TO BE A NEIGHBOUR UNTO YOU TOO LONG TOO LONG WE HEARD STRANGE FOOTSTEPS PASS HARSH STRIDENT ECHOES STRICKEN OUT OF STONE BUT NEVER SOFTENED BY GREEN GROWING GRASS OR MELLOW TO FAINT EARTHY UNDERTONE AND THEN O HEART DID WE NOT OFTTIMES FEEL OURSELVES APART ALONE WROUGHT TO VAGUE DISCORD BY SOME TOUCH UNKNOWN
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