The window look to me;

The shiny wrinkles in the road,

And then, about my Tree;

THE GREEN SINGING-BOOK

I sing about the City, too,

The noises and the wheels;

And Windows blinking in the sun;—

I sing the way it feels.

And if a Sparrow flies across,

I put him in the Song.—

I sing whatever happens in,

To make it last for long.

I sing about the things I think

Of almost everything.

Sometimes I don't know what to Think

—Till I begin to Sing.

[Pg 46]

Wing-Sprouts

t happens when the birds go by

And leave you far behind;

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