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Trees and the menace of night | by soleá
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Trees and the menace of night

Trees And The Menace Of Night

   

Then a long, lonely, leaden mere

Backed by a desolate fell,

As by a spectral battlement; and then,

Low-brooding, interpenetrating all,

A vast, gray, listless, inexpressive sky,

So beggared, so incredibly bereft

Of starlight and the song of racing worlds,

It might have bellied down upon the Void

Where as in terror Light was beginning to be.

 

Hist! In the trees fulfilled of night

(Night and the wretchedness of the sky)

Is it the hurry of the rain?

Or the noise of a drive of the Dead,

Streaming before the irresistible Will

Through the strange dusk of this, the Debateable Land

Between their place and ours?

 

Like the forgetfulness

Of the work-a-day world made visible,

A mist falls from the melancholy sky.

A messenger from some lost and loving soul,

Hopeless, far wandered, dazed

Here in the provinces of life,

A great white moth fades miserably past.

 

Thro' the trees in the strange dead night,

Under the vast dead sky,

Forgetting and forgot, a drift of Dead

Sets to the mystic mere, the phantom fell,

And the unimagined vastitudes beyond.

 

-William Ernest Henley

 

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Taken on March 23, 2011