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.

poem by Josephine Preston Peabody
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The House and the Road

The little Road says, Go,
The little House says, Stay:
And O, it's bonny here at home,
But I must go away.

The little Road, like me,
Would seek and turn and know;
And forth I must, to learn the things
The little Road would show!

And go I must, my dears,
And journey while I may,
Though heart be sore for the little House
That had no word but Stay.

Maybe, no other way
Your child could ever know
Why a little House would have you stay,
When a little Road says, Go.

poem by Josephine Preston Peabody
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!