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Robert Laurence Binyon - In The Forest
Work rating: Low

The beeches towering high
 Greenly cloud the sky.
 The shadows all are green
 With living sun unseen.
 O wonderful the sound
 Of green leaves all around,
 When nothing yet is heard
 Of windy branches stirred
 But wavering lights alone
 Innumerably blown
 Come trembling, and then cease
 Upon a trembling peace.
 What breathed in it? A sigh?
 Or something yet more shy
 Of speech? A spirit--kiss?
 A waft of fairy bliss
 That seeks for voice on our
 Lips, there to find its flower
 In some sweet syllable?
 O Love, I cannot tell;
 But light brims in your eyes
 And makes divine replies.
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