Childhood. How good it was beneath the mounting morn       To loiter past the hazel thicket where The baby nuts in such green growth were born,       And hid away with such especial care! And then to lean against the ancient elm       That always watched my journeys to and fro, And, looking upward, find the fairy realm       That only birds and children ever know! Or, stretched full length upon the mossy ground,       Where fringing fern so tenderly uncurled, How dear it was to catch the elfin sound       That sometimes echoes from the under-world, And learn the secrets of the quiet nook So fondly cherished by the faithful brook! __Florence L. Snow.

Kansas In Literature^__Part I. Poetry
Introduction by William Herbert Carruth
(Topeka: Crane & Co. 1900)
Page 101

 

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