I'd watched the sorrow of the evening sky, <br />And smelt the sea, and earth, and the warm clover, <br />And heard the waves, and the seagull's mocking cry. <br /> <br />And in them all was only the old cry, <br />That song they always sing -- "The best is over! <br />You may remember now, and think, and sigh, <br />O silly lover!" <br />And I was tired and sick that all was over, <br />And because I, <br />For all my thinking, never could recover <br />One moment of the good hours that were over. <br />And I was sorry and sick, and wished to die. <br /> <br />Then from the sad west turning wearily, <br />I saw the pines against the white north sky, <br />Very beautiful, and still, and bending over <br />Their sharp black heads against a quiet sky. <br />And there was peace in them; and I <br />Was happy, and forgot to play the lover, <br />And laughed, and did no longer wish to die; <br />Being glad of you, O pine-trees and the sky!<br /><br />Rupert Brooke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pine-trees-and-the-sky-evening/
