Children of Dream

The black ash grows in the swampy ground, The white ash in the dry; The thrush he holds to the woodland bound, The hawk to the open sky.

The trout he runs to the mountain brook, The swordfish keeps the sea; The brown bear knows where the blueberry grows. The clover calls the bee.

The locust sings in the August noon, The frog in the April night; The iris loves the meadow-land, The laurel loves the height.

And each will hold his tenure old Of earth and sun and stream, For all are creatures of desire And children of a dream.