Classic Poem

Now there was a place in the forest the Druids might have prayed in,
August with highest pines:
Here the forest turned in on itself
And meditated in thick silence …
Here was sanctuary from the world,
And the woods like a mother enfolded whoso came,
And a man knew vastness by being closed vastly from it.

The pilgrims halted here, and put down their burdens,
And built a fire, and laid out a frugal supper.

In the silence the leader rose, and pointed upward:
Between the dusky treetops glinted the stars.