Lizette Woodworth Reese

(January 9, 1856 – December 17, 1935 / Waverly)

A Holiday - Poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese

Along the pastoral ways I go,
To get the healing of the trees,
The ghostly news the hedges know;
To hive me honey like the bees,
Against the time of snow.

The common hawthorn that I see,
Beside the sunken wall astir,
Or any other blossoming tree,
Is each God’s fair white gospeller,
His book upon the knee.

A gust-broken bough; a pilfered nest;
Rumors of orchard or of bin;
The thrifty things of east and west,—
The countryside becomes my Inn,
And I its happy guest.


Comments about A Holiday by Lizette Woodworth Reese

  • Rookie - 45 Points Colleen Courtney (5/19/2014 10:12:00 AM)

    Love the last two lines! Sums up the whole poem perfectly! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, December 17, 2011



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