The House of the Trees
& Other Poems

by Ethelwyn Wetherald


The Shy Sun

THE sun went with me to the wood,
     And lingered at the door;
One glance he gave from where he stood,
     But dared not venture more,

Nor knew that in the heart of her


     Who felt his presence nigh,
His love was all the lovelier
     Because his look was shy. [Page 48]