Page:Roses in Rain, by Lilian Wooster Greaves, 1910.pdf/9



The moon rose red, and my hopes fell dead— I had longed for the quiet night; For the healing power of the silent hour, And the silvery pearl-flecked light.

The day had been long, and war waged strong ’Twixt man and the forest around. His sole desire seemed for axe and fire That destruction might abound.

And my spirit grieved for the trees, bright leaved, With their kingly heads laid low; For the tender things by the quiet springs It had been my joy to know.