Far Horizons

by Bliss Carman


 

MY TEACHERS


 

THE people of the forest
In crimson, green, and tan,—
The tree,—have been my teachers
To make of me a man.

They awed me with their beauty,

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Their tender strength and pride.
They gladden me as comrades
Forever at my side.

I dare not scorn their patience
In learning how to grow.

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They do not waste their powers
In rushing to and fro,

Nor spend a moment thinking
How soon they have to die,—
All occupied enhancing

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The hour going by.

I love the dark-hued spruces
Because their hearts are warm.
And the tall pines have taught me
To front the winter storm.

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Among the April willows
In their gold and silver gear,
I hear the bees make music
And summer drawing near.

Remembered Birch and Lilac

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Have taught me loveliness,
They are so fair and fragrant
In their soft-coloured dress.

Great Oak, dear Beech and Cedar,
Young Cherry dressed in white,

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They stand with heads uncovered
To greet the morning light.

And little trembling Aspen
Who always says her prayers,
Has taught me by example

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To tell God all my cares.

And One in gown of scarlet,
The first beloved of all,
Still tells me tales of glory
When autumn days befall.

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