About The Sheltered Garden Ground
ABOUT
the
sheltered
garden
ground
The
trees
stand
strangely
still.
The
vale
ne'er
seemed
so
deep
before,
Nor
yet
so
high
the
hill.
An
awful
sense
of
quietness,
A
fulness
of
repose,
Breathes
from
the
dewy
garden-lawns,
The
silent
garden
rows.
As
the
hoof-beats
of
a
troop
of
horse
Heard
far
across
a
plain,
A
nearer
knowledge
of
great
thoughts
Thrills
vaguely
through
my
brain.
I
lean
my
head
upon
my
arm,
My
heart's
too
full
to
think;
Like
the
roar
of
seas,
upon
my
heart
Doth
the
morning
stillness
sink.
