The House of the Trees
& Other Poems

by Ethelwyn Wetherald



FROM the depths of dreams I am drawn
     To the inner depth of a pine,
That near my window keeps the dawn—
     A dawn that is wholly mine.
Dream-rest and pine-rest,


     And a cool, gray path between—
A cool, gray path from the night’s breast
     To the heart of the living green.

To the depths of dreams I go
     On the sounds of falling rain,


That in the night-time gently flow
     In a stream on my window-pane.
Stream-rest and dream-rest,
     And a cool, dark path between—
A cool, dark path from the rain’s breast


     To the heart of the soft unseen. [Page 47]