All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.
......
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
......
floating on water
red sun's come down to the sea
blue waves in motion
shimmer and shine dusk
and stars are racing the moon
beyond fiery skies
as the hour grows late
the smoky drapes also fall
......
This crowded life of God's good giving
No man has relished more than I;
I've been so goldarned busy living
I've never had the time to die.
So busy fishing, hunting, roving,
Up on my toes and fighting fit;
So busy singing, laughing, loving,
I've never had the time to quit.
I've never been one for thinking
......
Out in a world of death far to the northward lying,
Under the sun and the moon, under the dusk and the day;
Under the glimmer of stars and the purple of sunsets dying,
Wan and waste and white, stretch the great lakes away.
Never a bud of spring, never a laugh of summer,
Never a dream of love, never a song of bird;
But only the silence and white, the shores that grow chiller and dumber,
Wherever the ice winds sob, and the griefs of winter are heard.
......
floating on water
red sun's come down to the sea
blue waves in motion
shimmer and shine dusk
and stars are racing the moon
beyond fiery skies
as the hour grows late
the smoky drapes also fall
......
Cottage at the lake
Sunset blooms down by the shore
Spring wandering moon
Glass lake, starlight reflections
of skies that once knew the noon.
In the heart of colorful autumn, skies were colored, too,
for flaming time was getting older, out in the hilly country.
Springtime's budding charm, lends a certain beauty to old age.
fresh like tomorrow
and so vibrantly alive
wild, wild vase of blooms
still brightening homes
with memories of sunshine
and the hint of scent
lovely like sunset
on red paths to yesterdays
......
Pink, gold and purple
at the verge of baby blue
Soft, twilight birdsong
Flickering fascination
in the glow of green fireflies
Weary day gives way
to cool night's diamonds and pearls
and pervading scents
Lush evening, dripping colors
......