The singing leaves

Whosoever cares to look In my little Book, If he care to look again, Let him so; and then, Should there be a very few Glad to say Amen To old wonders ever new, —Why, it is for You.

People say to me, ‘A Penny for your thought!’ And I can’t remember thinking; And I should think I ought. I wasn’t sleeping, either: I know that, because I saw things out of both...

But all of you who may not go To sail upon the sea,— Who wait upon another’s whim For hope of melody,— Oh, bless your hunger and your thirst, And give your spirit wings To speed...