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.