He who knows the ways of beast and birds, Who can distinguish them by sound and cry, Who knows the bright quicksilver life in streams, The courses that the stars take in the sky, May never have laid hands on books, yet he, Is sharing wisdom with infinity... He who works with sensitive deft hands At any woodcraft, will absorb the rain, The sunlight and the starlight and the dew, That entered in the making of its grain; He should grow tall and straight and clean and good, Who daily breathes the essence of wood, He who finds companionship in rocks, And comfort in the touch of vine and leaf, Who climbs a hill for joy, and shouts a song, Who loves the feel of wind, will know no grief; No loneliness that ever grows too great; For he will never be quite desolate... He shares, who is companioned long with these, All ancient wisdom and philosophies.
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