  O trees! so vast, so calm! Softly ye lay On heart and mind today The unpurchaseable balm. Ere yet the wind can cease, Your mighty sigh Is spirit of the sky— Half sorrow and half peace. Mourn ye your brothers slain, That now afar From hush and dews and star Man barters for his gain? Mourn them with all your boughs, For I must mourn, In seasons yet unborn, The cares that they will house. |
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