 | Snow-berries. A book for young folks |  |
31
TALK WITH A TREE.
Standing straight up in the glory
Of God's sunshine, O my tree,
I would know thy wondrous story,—
Wilt thou speak and tell it me?
With head in the sun and feet in the ground,
My heart it keepeth sweet and sound,
And evermore I grow and grow,
And this is all I know.
Of God's sunshine, O my tree,
I would know thy wondrous story,—
Wilt thou speak and tell it me?
With head in the sun and feet in the ground,
My heart it keepeth sweet and sound,
And evermore I grow and grow,
And this is all I know.
Rough and wild and many-jointed,
Thou art clothed with gracious hues,
And thy body is anointed
Nightly with the pleasant dews.
The sun and the storm I gladly greet,
And my heart it keepeth sound and sweet,
And my head is high and my root is low,
And this is all I know.
Thou art clothed with gracious hues,
And thy body is anointed
Nightly with the pleasant dews.
The sun and the storm I gladly greet,
And my heart it keepeth sound and sweet,
And my head is high and my root is low,
And this is all I know.
All thy blossoms come in season,—
In their time thy fruits come in,—
Canst thou give to me a reason?
Thou dost neither toil nor spin.
Deep I strike my roots in the ground,
And my heart it keepeth sweet and sound,
And my buds they bloom, and my fruits they glow,
And this is all I know.
In their time thy fruits come in,—
Canst thou give to me a reason?
Thou dost neither toil nor spin.
Deep I strike my roots in the ground,
And my heart it keepeth sweet and sound,
And my buds they bloom, and my fruits they glow,
And this is all I know.
32
From thy roots in silence pushing
Through the dark and gloomy ground,—
From thy boughs with blossoms blushing,—
From thy heart so sweet and sound,
Thou seemest to tell me, tree of mine,
We are not all earthy nor all divine,
But sown in corruption to be raised
Incorruptible,—God be praised.
Through the dark and gloomy ground,—
From thy boughs with blossoms blushing,—
From thy heart so sweet and sound,
Thou seemest to tell me, tree of mine,
We are not all earthy nor all divine,
But sown in corruption to be raised
Incorruptible,—God be praised.
| Snow-berries. A book for young folks | |