Then I go on from here I’ll take The ever pleasant memory of a lake.
I’ll tightly lock within my spirit breast
The picture of a grim old mountain’s crest.
A little stream’s song running ever clear
And all the lonely places I hold dear.
A mocking bird, a drenched and dripping tree.
O! I shall keep my hunger for the sea.
I shall keep my knowledge of the paths I know
The gates of many mornings and the glow,
Of sunset, on a firegold window pane,
The mist on young nasturtiums after rain.
Virginia creeper on some quaint old garden wall
The sound of dropping nuts, I’ll t............