Classic Poem

Wrap me, kind Nature, in thy fold of dreams,
Out from this life and its brute-selfishness,
Its anguished strivings for the boons that bless,
Its base ambitions and its bauble gleams
That lure poor souls, like foolish fish in streams,
From sunbeam into sunbeam; profitless.
Make me a part of thine own happiness,
With which thy realm, honey-nurtured, teems.

Give me once more thine olden innocence
Of bird and bee; the sunshine-built romance
Of hour to hour, by wood and field and deep;
Co-heir with those blithe wanderers of thy fields,
To whom alone life's open-sesame yields,
Like little children, morning, flowers and sleep.