In The Shadow Of The Beeches, Where The Fragile Wildflowers Bloom; Where The Pensive Silence Pleaches Green A Roof Of Cool Perfume, Have You Felt An Awe Imperious As When, In A Church, Mysterious Windows Paint With God The Gloom? In The Shadow Of The Beeches, Where The Rock-Ledged Waters Flow; Where The Sun'S Slant Splendor Bleaches Every Wave To Foaming Snow, Have You Felt A Music Solemn As When Minster Arch And Column Echo Organ Worship Low? In The Shadow Of The Beeches, Where The Light And Shade Are Blent; Where The Forest Bird Beseeches, And The Breeze Is Brimmed With Scent, - Is It Joy Or Melancholy That O'Erwhelms Us Partly, Wholly, To Our SpirIt's Betterment? In The Shadow Of The Beeches Lay Me Where No Eye Perceives; Where, - Like Some Great Arm That Reaches Gently As A Love That Grieves, - One Gnarled Root May Clasp Me Kindly, While The Long Years, Working Blindly, Slowly Change My Dust To Leaves.