"Hear the Green Woods Sing" Pastel 9" x 12" $100 © Sharon Lewis
In this busy time of year when many of us are in a mad rush,
perhaps trying to work and simultaneously prepare for the holidays, I thought a
painting of a tranquil scene might be desirable.
I also
thought Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem, “The Autumn” might be a good
accompaniment for this painting and for this beautiful autumn day.
The Autumn
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters
wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them –
The summer flowers depart –
Sit still –
as all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.
How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green
woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs
the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.
Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us
smile,
When Sorrow bids us
weep!
The dearest hands that clasp
our hands, --
Their presence may be o'er;
The dearest voice that meets
our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the
joys of youth,
Which once refresh'd our
mind,
Shall come -- as, on those
sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.
Hear not the wind -- view not the woods;
Look out o'er vale and hill-
In spring, the sky encircled
them –
The sky is round them still.
Come autumn's scathe -- come winter's
cold –
Come change -- and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth
bound,
Can ne'er be desolate.
