choose, She whose first world is an armsweep of air? 

 Baby Karlene, you are wondering now Why you can't reach the great moon that you see Just at your hand on the edge of the bough That waves in the window-pane--how can it be? 

 All your world yet hardly lies out of reach Of ten little fingers and ten little toes. You are a seed for the sky there to teach (And the sun and the wind and the rain) as it grows. 

 Just a green leaf piercing up to the day, Pale fleck of June to come, just to be seen Through the rough crumble of rubble and clay Lifting its loveliness, dawn-child, Karlene! 

  Fragile as fairycraft, dew-dream of love,-- Never a clod that has marred the slim stalk, Never a stone but its frail fingers move, Bent on the blue sky and nothing can balk! 

 Blue sky and wind-laughters, that is thy dream. Ah the brave days when thy leafage shall toss High where gold noondays and sunsets a-stream Mix with its moving and kiss it across. 

 There the great clouds shall go lazily by, Coo! thee with shadows and dazzle with shine, Drench thee with rain-guerdons, bless thee with sky, Till all the knowledge of earth shall be thine. 

 Wind from the ice-floe and wind from the palm, Wind from the mountains and wind from the lea-- How they will sing thee of tempest and calm! How they will lure thee with tales of the sea! 

 What will you be in that summer, Karlene? Apple-tree, cherry-tree, lily, or corn? Red rose or yellow rose, gray leaf or green? Which will you choose now the year's at its morn? 

 Somewhere even now in thy heart is the will,-- "I shall be Golden Rod, slender and tall-- I shall be Pond Lily, secret and still-- I shall be Sweetbriar, Queen of them all-- 

 "I shall give shade for the weary to rest-- I shall grow flax for the naked to wear-- Figs for a feast and all comers to guest-- Wreaths that girls twine in the laugh of their hair-- 

  "Ivy for scholars and myrtle for lovers, Laurel for conquerors, poets, and kings-- Broad-spreading beech-boughs whose benison covers Clamor of bird-notes and flutter of wings-- 

 "I shall rise tall as an elm in my grace-- I shall be clothed as catalpa is clad-- Poets shall crown me with lyrics of praise-- Lovers for lure of my blossoms 

 Prev. P 10/36 next