Poems (Sharpless)/A City Fernery

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4648389Poems — A City FerneryFrances M. Sharpless

A CITY FERNERY
You lift your graceful plumes of tenderest green,
Oh! lovely ferns, upward to sun and light,
As gratefully in placid peace serene,
As though the forest sheltered you from sight.

You heed not noisy street, nor busy throng,
You only upward look to yon blue sky,
Dreaming perhaps of shy wood-robin's song,
And whispering winds that thro' the tall pines sigh.

Fair visions surely hover round your life,
And reach to me who sit beside; I hear
No more the clangor and the vexing strife,
Of busy city toil, its grief, its care.

Alone in some green murmurous wood with you,
Beside a stream I pause, whose laughing tone
Marks off in music, all the summer through,
The quiet hours, a clock of Nature's own.

The lovely vision hath a wondrous spell
To calm my soul with thoughts of deepest peace:
Truly, ye ferns, you fill your mission well,
A silent ministry, that shall not cease.

Like you I shall look upward to the light,
Whate'er surrounds me in my hours of pain,
The life beyond shall bless Faith's yearning sight,
And strengthen for the days that yet remain.