Produced by Digital & Multimedia Center, Michigan State University Libraries, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Sankar Viswanathan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net _There is no rhyme that is half so sweet As the song of the wind in the rippling wheat; There is no metre that's half so fine As the lilt of the brook under rock and vine; And the loveliest lyric I ever heard Was the wildwood strain of a forest bird.-- If the wind and the brook and the bird would teach My heart their beautiful parts of speech. And the natural art that they say these with, My soul would sing of beauty and myth In a rhyme and a metre that none before Have sung in their love, or dreamed …
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