Classic Poem

The corn is in tassel, the grass is high,
Morning and evening echo with praise,
Robins whistle and thrushes reply,
Making the most of these holidays.

The silver birches are laughing out,
An emerald plume lifts the sculptured fern,
While thistle-blossoms begin to pout,
And the wild red roses begin to burn.

Here they come trooping, now, one and all,
Larkspur, and bluebell and gay marigold—
Had they been waiting the fairy's call
To spring from the dusk of the mould?

Look—the brown sparrow longs not to flutter
With wings like the pansy's purple best,
Nor the velvet pansy yearns to utter
What the sparrow croons over her nest.

Steeped in the happy summer weather,
Each content with its fortunate dower,
Life is enough, no matter whether
One be a girl, a bird, or a flower!