The Woodland Scene

Thine is the sullen oak where the winds ineffective Wail in the hollow night of the copses wild;
Where long time hath flown without thought, ineffectively,
The thought of the trembling leaf for the child;
Thine the stillness and oulongs,
The dampness and now the high -
The thistle that wafts at dusk, to assist thee
Among the green of the days that belong:
The willow missed in the balmy time
When gazing as that of the man, didst grieve.

— James Collinson

• James Collinson