THE WILD
Ho, Spring calls clear a message....
The Grackle is not green....
The Mighty Mother Nature
She knows just what I mean.
The lilac and the willow
The grass and violet
They are my wild companions
Where I was raised a pet.
The secrets of great nature
From childhood I have heard;
Oh, I can tell a wild flower
Swiftly from a wild bird;
And Gwendolen and Marna
And Myrtle (dead all three ...
Among my wildwood sweethearts
Was much mortality).
Might gather 'neath these boughs
(Oh, they would sniff at pear-trees
Who loved the Northern Sloughs).
Their wild eternal whisper
Would back me up, I ween:
"This bird is not a Grackle:
A Grackle is not green."