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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:
ФI lie here dead and buried,
And this is churchyard ground.

ФI am at rest for ever;
Ended the stress and strife.Ф
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. On the Wye in May
  2. On the Threshold
  3. To E.
  4. Youth and Love
  5. Ralph to Mary


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