Classic Poem

Come follow, heart upon your sleeve,
— The trail, a-teasing by,
Past tasseled corn and fresh-mown hay,
— Trim barns and farm-house shy,
Past hollyhocks and white well-sweep,
— Through pastures bare and wild,
Oh come, let's fare to the heart-o'-the-wood
— With the faith of a little child.

Strike in by the gnarled way through the swamp
— Where late the laurel shone,
An intimate close where you meet yourself
— And come unto your own,
By bouldered brook to the hidden spring
— Where breath of ferns blows sweet
And swift birds break the silence as
— Their shadows cross your feet.

Stout-hearted thrust through gold-green copse
— To garner the woodland glee,
To weave a garment of warm delight,
— Of sunspun ecstasy;
'Twill shield you all winter from frosty eyes,
— 'Twill shield your heart from cold;
Such greens! — how the Lord Himself loves green!
— Such sun! — how He loves the gold!

Then on till flaming fireweed
— Is quenched in forest deep;
Tread soft! The sumptuous paven moss
— Is spread for Dryads' sleep;
And list ten thousand thousand spruce
— Lift up their voice to God —
We can a little understand,
— Born of the self-same sod.

Oh come, the welcoming trees lead on,
— Their guests are we to-day;
Shy violets smile, proud branches bow,
— Gay mushrooms mark the way;
The silence is a courtesy,
— The well-bred calm of kings;
Come haste! the hour sets its face
— Unto great Happenings.