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 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! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHANNON AND THE CHESAPEAKE [JUNE 1, 1813] by THOMAS TRACY BOUVE THE WHITE MAN'S BURDEN by RUDYARD KIPLING DAUGHTERS OF WAR by ISAAC ROSENBERG DRAPIER'S HILL by JONATHAN SWIFT MY MOTHER by FLORENCE R. ANDREWS |