Thistle Down

By Ethel

T'is These - I Love

I did not love the city-life,
When I was but a girl.
But I loved the far blue mountains,
The barren waste...the squirrel.

I loved the river trickling,
The willows on its bank.
The vastness of it winding on,
The thirsty soil...that drank.

I loved the brown-bird on its nest,
Its wild and screeching cries.
When I went past the bush it used,
And it was forced to rise.

I loved to watch the dragon-fly,
Who was so long and slim.
Stareing with his purple-eyes,
And tettering on a limb.

I loved these things away from man,
My heart has loved them well.
So much...that I am envious of myself,
And my tongue speaks up to tell.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

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