TIME BRINGS TRUTH TO LIGHT 



The Trees of the Garden 



Ye who have passed Death's haggard hills; and 



ye 

 Whom trees that knew your sires shall cease 



to know 



And still stand silent: is it all a show 

 A wisp that laughs upon the wall ? decree 

 Of some inexorable supremacy 



Which ever, as man strains his blind surmise 

 From depth to ominous depth, looks past his 



eyes, 

 Sphinx- faced with unabashed augury? 



Nay, rather question the Earth's self. Invoke 

 The storm-felled forest trees moss-grown to- 

 day 

 Whose roots are hillocks where the children 



play; 



Or ask the silver sapling 'neath what yoke 

 Those stars, his spray-crown's clustering 



gems, shall wage 

 Their journey still when his boughs shrink 



with age. ~ 



D. G. ROSSETTI. 



(The House of Life.) 

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