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Page 66 - I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain, The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams, Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
Page 62 - Where Go the Boats? Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating Where will all come home? On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill.
Page 66 - TO DAFFODILS FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see You haste away so soon : As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Page 35 - I hear the wind among the trees Playing celestial symphonies ; I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument. And over me unrolls on high The splendid scenery of the sky, Where through a sapphire sea the sun Sails like a golden galleon...
Page 45 - We think no birds so happy as we ! Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill, We think so then, and we thought so still...
Page 33 - It is enough to know that when we plant a tree we are doing what we can to make our planet a more wholesome and a happier dwelling place for those who come after us, if not for ourselves. As you drop the seed, as you plant the sapling, your left hand hardly knows what your right hand is doing. But nature knows, and in due time the Power that sees and works in secret will reward you openly.
Page 78 - The alder by the river Shakes out her powdery curls, The willow buds in silver For little boys and girls. The little birds fly over, And oh, how sweet they sing ! To tell the happy children That once again 'tis spring.
Page 65 - THE CLOUD I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains...
Page 46 - THE forests of America, however slighted by man, must have been a great delight to God ; for they were the best he ever planted. The whole continent was a garden, and from the beginning it seemed to be favored above all the other wild parks and gardens of the globe.