Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OBSEQUIES, by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

OBSEQUIES, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The spirits of the twilight go sighing on these slopes
Last Line: To a forest funeral.
Alternate Author Name(s): Burke, Fielding
Subject(s): Forests; Funerals; Woods; Burials


The spirits of the twilight go sighing on these slopes
After the fire's black tread;
And something like a cry falls where the twisted smoke scent gropes
Above the forest dead.

The spirits of the twilight go weeping on these hills
That wore at dawn the plume
Of firs aglow and trembling to tap of wings and pearly bills,
Dark now beyond relume.

And down where men are walking, so vague and unperplexed,
Some one, half heard, will say
"Old Balsam Cone is done for; I wonder which is next;"
And go the trodden way.

But where hot scars are barren, and long curled moss is black
Spirits of twilight call
The dry-tongued hounds of hunger, and drouth that fevers track
To a forest funeral.





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