The House of the Trees
& Other Poems

by Ethelwyn Wetherald


Woodland Worship

HERE ’mid these leafy walls
     Are sylvan halls,
And all the Sabbaths of the year
     Are gathered here.

Upon their raptured mood


     My steps intrude,
Then wait—as some freed soul might wait
     At heaven’s gate.

Nowhere on earth—nowhere
     On sea or air,


Do I as easily escape
     This earthly shape,

As here upon the white
     And dizzy height
Of utmost worship, where it seems


     Too still for dreams. [Page 21]