THE JOURNEY
Whither away shall the baby ride?
How many miles shall he fare?
Under the trees whose arms spread wide,
Out to the meadow there.
Down by the brook that flows rippling by,
Bordered by moss and fern.
From flower and bird and tree and sky
How many things shall he learn?
Baby'll journey all safe and sound
Out in the world of green,
Traveling over the grassy ground,
Where wild flowers are seen.
Leaves will whisper and birds will trill,
And all things display their charms,
And, when he's journeyed as far as he will,
He'll ride back to mother's arms.
Then, though he thought the green world good,
He'll gladly come back to rest,
And will drowsily feel, as a baby should,
That mother's arms are the best.
ANNIE WILLIS MCCULLOUGH.