Dan, Charlie and Paul
The woods were made for the hunter of dreams,
The brooks for the fishers of song;
To the hunters who hunt for the gunless game
The streams and the woods belong.
There are thoughts that moan from the soul of pine
And thoughts in a flower bell curled;
And thoughts that are blown with scent of the fern
Are as new and as old as the world.
~Sam Walter Foss
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home