And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”
“Help one another,” a grain of sand
Said to another grain close at hand;
“The wind may carry me over the sea,
And then, oh, what will become of me?
But, come, my brother, give me your hand,
We’ll build a mountain and then we’ll stand.”
And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;
The grains of sand to a mountain;
The leaves became a summer shade;