Der Wald: I. Prologue
Ethel Smyth
Deep hid in the heart of the forest glades ever weaving and hov'ring in lonely mood
Far from the fret and strife of restless mortals we dwell, their voices we hear not, and all is at peace!
Rude tempests are hushed near our leafy shrine in the
dew laden silence calmly floating watch we the seasons
waxing and waning watch the ages that dawn and depart
and whisper the word: Eternity!
How swiftly how surely passeth man's delight! And e'en
like a dream are his pains forget: we the Immortals, fade
not neither perish are old as the heavens
And young as the blossoms that herald a bounteous spring