In the depths of a Forest secluded and wild, <br />The night voices whisper in passionate numbers; <br />And I’m leaning again, as I did when a child, <br />O’er the grave where my father so quietly slumbers. <br />The years have rolled by with a thundering sound <br />But I knew, O ye woodlands, affection would know it, <br />And the spot which I stand on is sanctified ground <br />By the love that I bear to him sleeping below it. <br /> <br />Oh! well may the winds with a saddening moan <br />Go fitfully over the branches so dreary; <br />And well may I kneel by the time-shattered stone, <br />And rejoice that a rest has been found for the weary.<br /><br />Henry Kendall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-depths-of-a-forest/
