Classic Poem

How good to lie a little while
—And look up through the tree!
The Sky is like a kind big smile
—Bent sweetly over me.

The Sunshine flickers through the lace
—Of leaves above my head,
And kisses me upon the face
—Like Mother, before bed.

The Wind comes stealing o'er the grass
—To whisper pretty things;
And though I cannot see him pass,
—I feel his careful wings.

So many gentle Friends are near
—Whom one can scarcely see,
A child should never feel a fear,
—Wherever he may be.