No Bird
Now here is peace for one who knew
The secret heart of sound;
The ear so delicate and true
Is pressed to noiseless ground.
The secret heart of sound;
The ear so delicate and true
Is pressed to noiseless ground.
Light swings the breeze above her head,
The grasses faintly stir;
But in this forest of the dead
No bird awakens her.
The grasses faintly stir;
But in this forest of the dead
No bird awakens her.