Charles Wharton Stork


The Silent Folk - Poem by Charles Wharton Stork

Oh, praise me not the silent folk;
To me they only seem
Like leafless, bird-abandoned oak
And muffled, frozen stream.

I want the leaves to talk and tell
The joy that's in the tree,
And water-nymphs to weave a spell
Of pixie melody.

Your silent folk may be sincere,
But still, when all is said,
We have to grant they're rather drear, --
And maybe, too, they're dead.


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Read poems about / on: tree, water, joy



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



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