large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_12_stein_64kb_13
large/11091/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_12_stein_64kb
English
11091
Indeed I think I never have confessed, Nor have you guessed How much of May it is your gift to bring. You never knew how wintry was the cloud Of haunting sadness, that would ofttimes shroud My inmost being, and creep up to chill The warmer currents of my life,—until, In knowing you, I felt a pulse like that sweet, joyous thrill That breaks the buds when all the skies are blue! INDEED I THINK I NEVER HAVE CONFESSED NOR HAVE YOU GUESSED HOW MUCH OF MAY IT IS YOUR GIFT TO BRING YOU NEVER KNEW HOW WINTRY WAS THE CLOUD OF HAUNTING SADNESS THAT WILL OFTTIMES SHROUD MY INNERMOST BEING AND CREEP UP TO CHILL THE WARMER CURRENTS OF MY LIFE UNTIL IN KNOWING YOU I FELT A PULSE LIKE THAT SWEET JOYOUS THRILL THAT BREAKS THE BUDS WHEN ALL THE SKIES ARE BLUE
roots grow Where high the hedges fling their lacing frets Along the lanes; while, softly sifting through Tall plumy weeds and silver spider-nets, The yellow sunbeams filter down below Until I know Not any fair Italian sky is blue As is our earth to-day with violets! Nor do I think that even that Syrian sun You watched ride high above Damascus’ towers, In purer light or richer splendor glowed Than any one Of these most lovely golden dawns of ours That wake the birds along the river road. The green ravines are newly fringed with fern; From out the brake a robin red-breast calls; The stream repeats, at rippling intervals, “Can you not now return?” But what avail in striving to compare Earth’s endless beauties, whether east or west! All lands are lovely, and I am aware That unto me this little spot seems fair, More rare Than all the gathered glories of the rest, Because I love it best. And so, in truth, I feel that chief I plead A selfish need; I too, like nature, long to greet the spring! G WINDFLOWERS BLOW AND BLOOD ROOTS GROW WHERE HIGH THE HEDGES FLING THEIR LACING FRETS ALONG THE LANES WHILE SOFTLY SIFTING THROUGH TALL PLUMY WEEDS AND SILVER SPIDER NETS THE YELLOW SUNBEAMS FILTER DOWN BELOW UNTIL I KNOW NOT ANY FAIR ITALIAN SKY IS BLUE AS IS OUR EARTH TO DAY WITH VIOLET NOR DO I THINK THAT EVEN THAT SYRIAN SUN YOU WATCH RIGHT HIGH ABOVE DAMASCUS TOWER IN PURER LIGHT OR RICHER SPLENDOUR GLOWED THAN ANY ONE OF THESE MOST LOVELY GOLDEN DAWNS OF OURS THAT WAKE THE BIRDS ALONG THE RIVER ROAD THE GREEN RAVINES ARE NEWLY FRINGED WITH FERN FROM OUT THE BRAKE A ROBIN REDBREAST CALLS THE STREAM REPEATS AT RIPPLING INTERVALS CAN YOU NOT NOW RETURN BUT WHAT AVAIL IN STRIVING TO COMPARE EARTH'S ENDLESS BEAUTIES WHETHER EAST OR WEST ALL LANDS ARE LOVELY AND I AM AWARE THAT UNTO ME THIS LITTLE SPOT SEEMS FAIR MORE RARE THAN ALL THE GATHERED GLORIES OF THE REST BECAUSE I LOVE IT BEST AND SO IN TRUTH I FEEL THAT CHIEF I PLEAD A SELFISH NEED I TOO LIKE NATURE LONG TO GREET THE SPRING
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