"To a Child"

By Sophie Jewett

The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;   

   Hearken the tale they told:   

How in some far-off place and year,   

   Before the world grew old,


I was a dreaming forest tree,

   You were a wild, sweet bird

Who sheltered at the heart of me

   Because the north wind stirred;


How, when the chiding gale was still,   

   When peace fell soft on fear,

You stayed one golden hour to fill

   My dream with singing, dear.


To-night the self-same songs are sung   

   The first green forest heard;

My heart and the gray world grow young—

   To shelter you, my bird.

Adam Thompson