Under the Trees
I lay full length near lonely trees
Heart-full of sighing silences;
So far as eyes could see all round
There was no life, no stir, no sound.
I thought no more down in the grass
Of all that must be or that was;
My weary brain forgot to ache.
My heart was still and did not break.
So close I lay to earth's large breast
I could have dreamed myself at rest;
Only that then the grass must be
Above instead of under me.
Wherefore, I thought, should I regain
My anxious life that is so vain?
Here will I lie, forgetting strife.
Till death shall end this death-in-life.
Ah, no: because, O coward will,
Thy destined work thou must fulfil.
Because no soul, be it great or small.
Can rise alone or lonely fall.
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