She had no saying dark enough For the dark pine that kept Forever trying the window-latch Of the room where they slept. The tireless but ineffectual hands That with every futile pass Made the great tree seem as a little bird Before the mystery of glass! It never had been inside the room, And only one of the two Was afraid in an oft-repeated dream Of what the tree might do. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE FRUIT GARDEN PATH by AMY LOWELL |