No slowworm dropped its tail for him; <br />No squirrel clicked its heels in scorn; <br />Because he shared in every whim <br />Of every little creature born. <br /> <br />For his amusement, bluetits did <br />Their funny acrobatic tricks; <br />And efts and water-beetles slid <br />On floating leaves, or swimming sticks. <br /> <br />The shadow of a passing bird <br />Would touch and thrill him with delight; <br />And he could hear each silent word <br />Old empty houses speak at night. <br /> <br />The language of a quiet place <br />In lonely woods became his own; <br />And Nature met him face to face, <br />And mated with him there alone. <br /> <br />He knew the voice of every tree; <br />He caught the song of summer heat; <br />While growing grass for him could be <br />Sweet lyrics singing at his feet. <br /> <br />And bank voles listened when he said: <br />'My pretty ones, don't venture far; <br />Eyases and owlets must be fed <br />Continually so there you are!' <br /> <br />Pied wagtails had a fearless eye <br />When he was close beside their nest: <br />And I have seen a linnet fly <br />And cling and flutter at his breast. <br /> <br />The Land of Ghosts beyond the sun <br />Must be a pleasant land to find, <br />If it is good enough for one <br />So understanding, and so kind.<br /><br />Charles Dalmon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/edward-thomas-2/
