Page:Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection).djvu/46

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SPRINGTIME IN OLD HADLEY
Soft is the air when first the robin sings
Among the budding elms, and far he flings
The bold triumphant strain of other days
Across the field. How changed are all earth's ways!
What floral beauty springs and bursts, and swells
In all her fields and lanes, and distant dells,
How birds, and brooks and bees, the whole day long
Flood all the walks of earth with happy song!
What subtle sweetness fills the fields and woods
When Nature recreates her solitudes;
And in the street, upon the giant trees,
The young leaves rustle in their ecstacies;
Awhile the elms, by springtime scantly drest,
Stand grandly forth, half hidden, yet confessed.


COMMUNION WITH NATURE
I hold this true—it is not solitude
Alone to wander through the trackless wood,
To pierce the deepest dells of spruce and pines,
Where overhead the fair clematis twines,
Where 'neath your feet the soft moss sinks and swells,
More fair than Persian rugs or rich Brussels!
To climb the rugged steeps where stately stand
Like giant sentries to the lower land

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