A Silent Wood
by Elizabeth Siddal
   O silent wood, I enter thee
   With a heart so full of misery
   For all the voices from the trees
   And the ferns that cling about my knees.
    
   In thy darkest shadow let me sit
   When the grey owls about thee flit;
   There will I ask of thee a boon,
   That I may not faint or die or swoon.
    
   Gazing through the gloom like one
   Whose life and hopes are also done,
   Frozen like a thing of stone
   I sit in thy shadow – but not alone.
    
   Can God bring back the day when we two stood
   Beneath the clinging trees in that dark wood?
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