Helen in the Wood
I left the yew-tree shadow, thrown
Slantwise across the graves, and grown
So long I knew the day waxed late.
And opened wide the churchyard gate;
Paused there ; for from the church behind
Voices of women thrilled the wind,
And organ music rose and rang:
I heard the village choir that sang.
But I, that had no heart for song,
Sighed, shut the gate, and went along
The lane (where rows of elms, wind-vexed.
Nodded fantastic heads perplexed
At winter's dimly boded woes).
Intil the trees grew thick and close.
The rain was over, but the copse
Shook down at whiles some after-drops,
Tho' sunshine, thro' wet branches seen.
Flickered in living flakes of green.
And, where below ground-ivy grew,
A fallen heaven lay darkly blue.
So soon! the tempest scarce was done.
And all the wet world sang and shone
More lovely yet: I think the place
Found but in grief an added grace;
While I— the tears fell and 1 sighed:
It was a year since Helen died.
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