  Love you not the tall trees spreading wide their branches, Cooling with their green shade the sunny days of June? Love you not the little bird lost among the leaflets, Dreamily repeating a quaint, brief tune? Is there not a joy in the waste windy places; Is there not a song by the long dusty way? Is there not a glory in the sudden hour of struggle? Is there not a peace in the long quiet day? Love you not the meadows with the deep lush grasses; Love you not the cloud-flocks noiseless in their flight? Love you not the cool wind that stirs to meet the sunrise; Love you not the stillness of the warm summer night? Have you never wept with a grief that slowly passes; Have you never laughed when a joy goes running by? Know you not the peace of rest that follows labor?— You have not learnt to live then; how can you dare to die? Scribner’s Tertius van Dyke |
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