_He owns the bird-songs of the hills-- <br />The laughter of the April rills; <br />And his are all the diamonds set <br />In Morning's dewy coronet,-- <br />And his the Dusk's first minted stars <br />That twinkle through the pasture-bars <br />And litter all the skies at night <br />With glittering scraps of silver light;-- <br />The rainbow's bar, from rim to rim, <br />In beaten gold, belongs to him._<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/with-hale-affection-and-abiding-faith-these-rhymes-and-pictures-are-inscribed-to-the-children-everywhere/
