The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse
The ForeignerFrancis Joseph Sherman (18711926)
H
And wondered that I loved it so;
Above us stretched the grey, grey skies;
Behind us, foot-prints on the snow.
Hemlocks were there, and little pines
Also; and solemn cedars stood
In even and uneven lines.
Bent downward, for the snow’s hard weight
Was pressing on them heavily;
They had not known the sun of late.
*****
There was no sound (I thought I heard
The axe of some man far away),
There was no sound of bee, or bird,
Or chattering squirrel at its play.
—There was one thing he could not see;
Beneath the look these dead things had
I saw Spring eyes agaze at me.