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Henry Kendall - In the Depths of a Forest
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In the depths of a Forest secluded and wild,
      The night voices whisper in passionate numbers;
And I’m leaning again, as I did when a child,
      O’er the grave where my father so quietly slumbers.
The years have rolled by with a thundering sound
      But I knew, O ye woodlands, affection would know it,
And the spot which I stand on is sanctified ground
      By the love that I bear to him sleeping below it.

Oh! well may the winds with a saddening moan
      Go fitfully over the branches so dreary;
And well may I kneel by the time-shattered stone,
      And rejoice that a rest has been found for the weary.
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