Frederick George Scott

COLLECTED POEMS


 

In the Churchyard



As now my feet are straying
    Where all the dead are lying,
O trees, what are ye saying
    That sets my soul a-sighing?

Your sound is as the weeping

5
    Of one that dreads the morrow,
Or sob of sad heart sleeping
    For fulness of its sorrow. [Page 130]

Methinks your rootlets, groping
    Beneath the dark earth’s layers,
10
Have found the doubt and hoping,
    The blasphemies and prayers,

Of hearts where worms are feeding,
    And now, in love and pity,
Ye storm with interceding
15
    The floor of God’s great city. [Page 131]