large/10955/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_20_stein_64kb_3
large/10955/among_the_trees_again_1609_librivox_64kb_mp3/trees_20_stein_64kb
English
10955
_BETWEEN SEASONS_ The cherry trees are haunted By hordes of robber jays, And warmer winds are fanning The poppies to a blaze. And loosed in fitful flurries, The sweet syringas fall, To lie like little snow drifts Against the garden wall. POXED OR TORG BY KARA THE CHERRY TREES ARE HAUNTED BY HORDES OF ROBBER JAYS AND WARMER WINDS ARE FANNING THE POPPIES TO A BLAZE AND LOOSED IN FITFUL FLURRIES THE SWEET SYRINGES FALL TO LIE LIKE LITTLE SNOWDRIFTS AGAINST THE GARDEN WALL
 living rock forever Looming dark, majestic, grand. O’er its outline, heaven fronting, When the dawn’s first radiance streams With its rosy touch, and tender, Then this face of granite seems As a sleeper’s unawakened From the thrall of peaceful dreams. But when down the western heavens Sinks the setting sun, blood-red, Then the mountain mists that mantle Cover close that quiet head, As men draw a pall of purple Round about their kingly dead. And the stars, like lighted tapers, Flicker forth in golden rows From the heaven’s holy altar, Whilst the night-wind as it blows Seems to chant a solemn requiem For the passing soul’s repose. Head of royal Montezuma, So the ancient legends tell; Montezuma, granite shrouded By some great enchanter’s spell, Lying lordly by the borders Of the land he loved so well. But in silence unrevealing Still that calm face fronts the sky; Heeding neither tears nor laughter, Nor if sun or storm go by; Keeping still its primal counsel, In repose, serene and high.   BETWEEN SEASONS BY EVELEEN STEYNE READ FOR LIVER
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