Wildwood voices tell me so <br />In song, clear and bold, <br />Where the fairest flowers grow, <br />Even in the hardest cold. <br /> <br />They appear like gems, afar, <br />Trembling on my narrow sight; <br />As loved ones' crossing of the Bar, <br />Speaks to me of homeward flight. <br /> <br />Upon the wings of Light they come, <br />Splendid forms meek and mild, <br />Singing out the precious sum <br />Of the Wildwood's unseen side. <br /> <br />Yet the fairest of them all, <br />Among the heaping stars, <br />From beneath the Master's pall <br />Points his rays toward morning's bar.<br /><br />Samuel Hardman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wildwood-voices/
