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Poem by Amy Levy


In the Black Forest


I lay beneath the pine trees,
And looked aloft, where, through
The dusky, clustered tree-tops,
Gleamed rent, gay rifts of blue.

I shut my eyes, and a fancy
Fluttered my sense around:
”I lie here dead and buried,
And this is churchyard ground.

”I am at rest for ever;
Ended the stress and strife.”
Straight I fell to and sorrowed
For the pitiful past life.

Right wronged, and knowledge wasted;
Wise labour spurned for ease;
The sloth and the sin and the failure;
Did I grow sad for these?

They had made me sad so often;
Not now they made me sad;
My heart was full of sorrow
For joy it never had.



Amy Levy


Amy Levy's other poems:
  1. Christopher Found
  2. A June-Tide Echo
  3. The Sick Man and the Nightingale
  4. The First Extra
  5. On the Wye in May


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