let my thoughts be carried high like beech trees reaching naked branches to the sky as are these dreams of mine naked in themselves from time to time, their form rooted in the earth held down as such only to serve as reminder to impart for in the greenwood grows first the heart.
mark me in cherry blossom from first bloom to the falling snowflakes of dreamlike springtimes that count the years passing measuring my days until they open no more and instead become but ashes floating endlessly on eternity’s breeze
oh! nature, hast thou changed thy face for time has played its wicked hand whereby once youth was fast in place the aged ocean’s swept over sand from days long past I thought eternal my mortal frame will ne’er be saved this debt for which was presumed vernal becomes forthcoming by the grave so to accept the years will sigh as they tread with practised guile across my footpath by and by, and meet them gladly after a while. For I, like all men, have my hours as do the birds, the trees and flowers.