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Poem by Eleanor Farjeon


The Mysterious Forest


I stood on the verge of the mysterious forest,
Sunlight lay behind me on the meadows,
But all the world of the mysterious forest
Was a world of wraiths and shadows.

The dim trees beckoned, beckoned with their branches,
I said: "The sun's behind me on the meadows."
A dim voice calling, calling through the branches
From the world of wraiths and shadows.

I saw a pale young Queen, her eyes were mournful,
Steal ghostwise ... is the sun yet on the meadows?...
More phantoms passed and all their eyes were mournful
In the world of wraiths and shadows.

I see a blue light in the mysterious forest,
The cold night lies behind me on the meadows.
The branches beckon in the mysterious forest ...
They beckon, beckon, beckon, call and beckon
From the world of wraiths and shadows.



Eleanor Farjeon


Eleanor Farjeon's other poems:
  1. Three Miles to Penn
  2. When You Say
  3. Sonnets. 11. A few of us who faltered as we fared
  4. Sonnets. 14. Now I have love again and life again
  5. Revolt


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