Classic Poem

Into the noiseless country Annie went,
Among the silent people where no sound
Of wheel or voice or implement—no roar
Of wind or billow moves the tranquil air:

And oft at midnight when my strength is spent
And day's delirium in the lull is drowned
Of deepening darkness, as I kneel before
Her palm and cross, comes to my soul this prayer,
That partly brings me back to my content,
“Oh, that hushed forest!—soon may I be there!”