The Fir-tree
The winds have blown more bitter
Each darkening day of fall;
High over all the house-tops
The stars are far and small
I wonder, will my fir-tree
Be green in spite of all?
O grief is colder-colder
Than wind from any part;
And tears of grief are bitter tears,
And doubt's a sorer smart!
But I promised to my fir-tree
To keep the fragrant heart.
Josephine Preston Peabody
The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets.
Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.