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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  The Woodland

C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

The Woodland

By Emanuel Geibel (1815–1884)

Translation of Charles Harvey Genung

THE WOOD grows denser at each stride;

No path more, no trail!

Only murm’ring waters glide

Through tangled ferns and woodland flowers pale.

Ah, and under the great oaks teeming

How soft the moss, the grass, how high!

And the heavenly depth of cloudless sky,

How blue through the leaves it seems to me!

Here I’ll sit, resting and dreaming,

Dreaming of thee.