Part 3 — A MAINE TRAIL
Reading edition
Come follow, heart upon your sleeve, The trail, a-teasing by, Past tasseled corn and fresh-mown hay, Trim barns and farm-house shy, Past hollyhocks and white well-sweep, Through pastures bare and wild, Oh come, let's fare to the heart-o'-the-wood With the faith of a little child.
Strike in by the gnarled way through the swamp Where late the laurel shone, An intimate close where you meet yourself And come unto your own, By bouldered brook to the hidden spring Where breath of ferns blows sweet And swift birds break the silence as Their shadows cross your feet.
Stout-hearted thrust through gold-green copse To garner the woodland glee; To weave a garment of warm delight, Of sunspun ecstasy; 'Twill shield you all winter from frosty eyes, 'Twill shield your heart from cold; Such greens!—how the Lord Himself loves green! Such sun!—how He loves the gold!
Then on till flaming fireweed Is quenched in forest deep; Tread soft! The sumptuous paven moss Is spread for Dryads sleep; And list ten thousand thousand spruce Lift up their voice to God— We can a little understand, Born of the self-same sod.
Oh come, the welcoming trees lead on, Their guests are we to-day; Shy violets smile, proud branches bow, Gay mushrooms mark the way; The silence is a courtesy, The well-bred calm of kings; Come haste! the hour sets its face Unto great Happenings.
Gertrude Huntington McGiffert [18-