The Oak is called the King of Trees,
The Aspen quivers in the breeze,
The Poplar grows up straight and tall,
The Pear-tree spreads along the wall,
The Sycamore gives pleasant shade,
The Willow droops in watery glade,
The Fir-tree useful timber gives,
The Beech amid the forest lives.
I hear leaves drinking Rain;
I hear rich leaves on top
Giving the poor beneath
Drop after drop;
‘Tis a sweet noise to hear
These green leaves drinking near.
And when the Sun comes out,
After this Rain shall stop,
A wondrous Light will fill
Each dark, round drop;
I hope the Sun shines bright;
‘Twill be a lovely sight.
~W. H. Davies
When May-time comes I love to feel
The warm soft breezes fan my face
I love to watch the happy birds
Fly homeward from some southern place.
I love to hear the little brooks
Chuckly and murmur as they flow
And in my secret ferny nook
I watch the shy blue violets grow.
~Margaret Gant (age 8)
Oh, the little birds are singing in the budding willow trees
And the south wind blows across the fields of May,
And my happy heart is singing to the tune of humming bees,
Oh, spring is here, and summer’s on the way!
The Quaker doves are crooning in the dove-cote in the sun,
And the vine is green against the garden wall,
I’ve dug the seeds I planted, and they’ve sprouted every one;
So I shall have a harvest in the Fall!
~Lucy Fitch Perkins