A walk in the mangroves

“Were it the sun as gold as I
To cast a shadow against my eye
And healthy drip of cloud descend
To quench the throats of foe and friend
And were it the grass so heavenly sway
To catch my thoughts and turn them their way
And does bird who twitters within the trees
Preparing to nest in new spring leaves
Does she, with wing and feather of free
Come down to show these joys to me
Were it the moon hung in the sky
To draw a tear and cause to cry
For heaven hath nothing as beauty compare
As these dainty creations that linger all where”

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