The Dance of Trees
(tune: "Gabriel to Mary Came"/Traditional Irish)
Words by Beth Wheeler

I stopped and stood in wintery wood With fields upon its margin Moon shone down upon the ground And turned the snow to argent There, in the night, so daytime bright Saw I a strange and wonderful sight Without a breeze the boughs of trees Lifted up and swayed And then began to move Then all the trees with grace and ease They danced and played And in and out they wove
Oak and pine began the line As ash struck up a measure Birch and fir began to stir And then joined in with pleasure Cedar deferred without a word Bowed to the elm, who never stirred So root and branch with graceful stance Did blithely trot And pass the whole night through And so did chance in the woodland's dance My eye was caught And my wonder ever grew
When at last the night was past And stars shone ever paler Leaf and bole together stole Back to the woodland's veil Then it did seem, within the gleam Of rising sun, a far-off dream But on the morn, when all forlorn I sought that wood To prove the vision's worth That field was shorn, rutted and torn Nor snow yet stood Upon the root-tracked earth


Back to Filk Page