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Ethelwyn Wetherald

Ethelwyn Wetherald

The House of the Trees

OPE your doors and take me in,
 Spirit of the wood;
Wash me clean of dust and din,
 Clothe me in your mood.
 
Take me from the noisy light
 To the sunless peace,
Where at midday standeth Night,
 Signing Toil’s release.
 
All your dusky twilight stores
 To my senses give;
Take me in and lock the doors,
 Show me how to live.
 
Lift your leafy roof for me,
 Part your yielding walls,
Let me wander lingeringly
 Through your scented halls.
 
Ope your doors and take me in,
 Spirit of the wood;
Take me–make me next of kin
 To your leafy brood.

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Other works by Ethelwyn Wetherald...
Earth’s Silences

How dear to hearts by hurtful nois… In the stillness of the many-leavÃ… The quiet of green hills, the mill… Tranquillity of night, the endless… Of silence in deep wilds, where na…
The Screech-Owl

HEARING the strange night-pierc… Of woe that strove to sing, I followed where it hid, and found A small soft-throated thing, A feathered handful of gray grief,
Pluck

THANK God for pluck–unknown to… The self ne’er of its Self bereft… Who, when the right arm’s shattere… The good flag with the left.
The Snow Storm

The Great soft downy snow storm l… Descends to wrap the lean world he… It gives the dead another winding… It buries all the roofs until the… Seems like a soul that from its cl…
Absence

Dear grey-winged angel, with the m… And time-devouring eyes, the sweet… Of kisses when two severed lovers… Is thine; the cruelest ache in hea… The fears that freeze, the hopes t…
If One Might Live

IF one might live ten years among… Ten–only ten–of all a life’s long… Who would not choose a childhood '… Low-sloping to some slender footpa… With the young grass about his chi…
The Hay Field

WITH slender arms outstretching… The grass lies dead; The wind walks tenderly and stirs… Frail fallen head. Of baby creepings through the Apr…
The Wind of Death

THE wind of death, that softly bl… The last warm petal from the rose, The last dry leaf from off the tre… To-night has come to breathe on me… There was a time I learned to hat…
The Song Sparrow’s Nest

Here where tumultuous vines Shadow the porch at the west, Leaf with tendril entwines Under a song sparrow’s nest. She in her pendulous nook
Mother and Child

I SAW a mother holding Her play-worn baby son, Her pliant arms enfolding The drooping little one. Her lips were made of sweetness,
Legacies

UNTO my friends I give my though… Unto my God my soul, Unto my foe I leave my love– These are of life the whole. Nay, there is something–a trifle–l…
At Waking

WHEN I shall go to sleep and wak… At dawning in another world than t… What will atone to me for all I m… The light melodious footsteps of t… The press of leaves against my win…
Earth’s Silences

HOW dear to hearts by hurtful noi… In the stillness of the many-leavè… The quiet of green hills, the mill… Tranquility of night, the endless… Of silence in deep wilds, where na…
In the Crowd

Here in the crowded city’s busy st… Swayed by the eager, jostling, has… Where Traffic’s voice grows harsh… I see within the stream of hurryin… A company of trees in their retrea…
The Indigo Bird

WHEN I see, High on the tip-top twig of a tree… Something blue by the breezes stir… But so far up that the blue is blu… So far up no green leaf flies



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