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The
Gates of Time and Other Poems
by
Frederick George Scott
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UNDER
THE PINES
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“Life
is sad,” says the wind in the pines
To the still soul listening,
While the pale, pale day declines
Like a white bird on the
wing.
“Life is sad,” says the quiet earth
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Under
the churchyard wall,
Where the spring flowers have their birth
And the autumn leaflets
fall.
“Life is sad,” say the daisies that
blow there
And stretch out their
heads to the sun;
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“Life
is sad,” say the poor hearts that go there
To weep when the day’s
work is done.
“Life is sad,” from below, from on
high,
From forest and meadow
and tree,
From the clouds that drift over the sky
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the days that die into the sea.
Then up and be brave with thy sorrow,
Like a man with his face
to the blast;
Not from hope of the joys of to-morrow,
Nor rest when the warfare
is past;
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But strong that weak souls may grow strong,
That men may take heart
by the way,
Till the heavens break forth with the song
That will herald eternal
day.
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