Lady-Grove (Silver Birches)

This side the deeper wood, Of somber oak and pine, A dryad sisterhood Upon the hill's incline, In poised expectance stand, As waiting but the sign, To dance a saraband!

The oaks and pines, alway, A darkling mystery hide. In Lady-Grove, all day, The cheerful sunbeams glide; And many a singing brood In peace and joy abide With this lov'd sisterhood.

Their raiment fair is wove Of tender green and white: Come, Breeze, to Lady-Grove And put their trance to flight; For if they once were freed-- My Silver Birches light-- Ah, what a dance they'd lead!