THE bubbling brook doth leap when I come by, Because my feet find measure with its call; The birds know when the friend they love is nigh, For I am known to them, both great and small. The flower that on the lonely hill-side grows Expects me there when Spring its bloom has given; And many a tree and bush my wanderings knows, And e'en the clouds and silent stars of heaven; For he who with his Maker walks aright, And cherry-blossoms, and white caps whose Shall be their lord as ADAM was before; |