Tuesday 8 October 2013

The North Wood's Lament

By Master Hector of the Black Height

(for Osis and Bernadette, Pennsic XXVIII)

The sad willow and the beech,
The tall ashwood and the poplar
Shed their leaves in bitter autumn
As a carpet for the rains;
A chill wind now calls in mourning
'Cross the clearing they have left us
And the thunder and the stillness leave us wanting.

When the storm winds whipped the wood,
When the lightning tore the firment,
When the mighty oak was fallen
And the apple close beside:
It was cold rain shook the branches,
It was lightning took them from us
And the thunder and the stillness leave us wanting.

They are fallen to the earth
And their glory feeds the forest.
Soon the green shoots of the springtide
Shall avenge the summer's blight
But no sapling so tall towers,
But no shoot can bloom so sweetly
And the thunder and the stillness leave us wanting.

(copyright Arthur McLean 1991-2000)

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