To all girls and boys, but only for the time of their childhood, the flowers of the field, the blossoms of the wood, with the right to play among them freely, according to the custom of children, warning them at the same time against thistles and thorns. We give to them the banks of the brooks and the golden sands beneath the waters thereof, and the odors of the willows that dip therein and the white clouds that float over the giant trees, and we leave to the children the long, long days to be merry in a thousand ways and the night and the moon, and the train of the milky way to wonder at.
We give to all boys all idle fields and commons, where ball may be played, all pleasant waters where one may swim, all snowclad hills where one may coast, and all streams and ponds where one may fish, or where, when grim winter comes, they may skate, to have and to hold the same for the period of their boyhood. And to all boys, all boisterous inspiring sports of rivalry and the disdain of weakness, and undaunted confidence in their own strength. We give the powers to make lasting friendships and of possessing companions, and to them exclusively we give all merry songs and brave choruses to sing with lusty voices.
And to all girls the yellow fields and green meadows with the clover blossoms and butterflies thereof, the woods with their appurtenances, the squirrels and birds and echoes and strange noises, and all distant places which may be visited, together with the adventures there to be found.
And to all children wheresoever they may be, each his own place at the fireside at night with all the pictures that may be seen in the burning wood, to enjoy without hindrance, and without any encumbrance of care, and to them also we give memory, and to them the volumes of the poems of Burns and Shakespeare and of other poets and their imaginary world, with whatever they may need, such as the red roses by the wall, the bloom of the hawthorn, the sweet strains of music, and the stars of the sky, to enjoy freely and fully without tithe or diminution until the happiness of old age crown them with snow.
By Williston Fish (Adapted)
King Arthur’s Tomb, Innsbruck
“That Arthur who with lance in rest,