More poetry from WH Auden at my poetry discussion site, The Hidden Waterfall.
A well-kempt forest begs Our Lady's grace;
Someone is not disgusted, or at least
Is laying bets upon the human race
Retaining enough decency to last;
The trees encountered on a country stroll
Reveal a lot about a country's soul.
A small grove massacred to the last ash,
An oak with heart-rot, give away the show:
This great society is going to smash;
They cannot fool us with how fast they go,
How much they cost each other and the gods.
A culture is no better than its woods.
WH AUDEN From Woods (the last two stanzas)
1 comment:
Never seen this poem before - one on my list for our next Poetry group.
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