THE TREE
The tree’s early leaf-buds were bursting their brown; “Shall I take them away?” said the Frost, sweeping down. “No, dear, leave them alone Till the blossoms have grown,” Prayed the tree, while it trembled from rootlet to crown.
The tree bore its blossoms, and all the birds sung: “Shall I take them away?” said the Wind, as it swung. “No, dear, leave them alone Till berries here have grown,” Said the tree, while the leaflets all quivering hung.
The tree bore its fruit in the midsummer glow: Said the girl, “May I gather thy berries or no?” “Yes, dear, all thou canst see; Take them; all are for thee,” Said the tree, while it bent its laden boughs low. Björnstjerne Björnson.
COMING AND GOING
Henry Ward Beecher
There came to our fields a pair of birds that had never built a nest nor seen a winter. How beautiful was everything! The fields were full of flowers, and the grass was growing tall, and the bees were humming everywhere. Then one of the birds began singing, and the other bird said, “Who told you to sing?” And he answered, “The flowers told me, and the bees told me, and the winds and leaves told me, and the blue sky told me, and you told me to sing.” Then his mate answered, “When did I tell you to sing?” And he said, “Every time you brought in tender grass for the nest, and every time your soft wings fluttered off again for hair and feathers to line the nest.” Then his mate said, “What are you singing about?” And he answered, “I am singing about everything and nothing. It is because I am so happy that I sing.”