To thee I wandered daily, dearest wood. In hazy days of youth, now long gone by: I would confide thee so much dreamed-of good, From such true sorrow thou wouldst hear me sigh. And thee again, my sombre haunt, I seek, The murmur of thy treetops' mighty sea-- Do thou speak now! For I shall let thee speak! Joy, pain are dumb. I'll hearken now to thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HAPPINESS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LIKE A BULRUSH by MARIANNE MOORE A MILLION YOUNG WORKMEN, 1915 by CARL SANDBURG |