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10
OVER THE WALL
All wild things love her. The murmuring bee
Scarce stirs when she draws near,
And sings the bird in the hemlock-tree
Its sweetest for her ear.
The harebells nod as she passes by,
The violet lifts its tender eye,
The low ferns bend her steps to greet,
And the mosses creep to her dancing feet.

Up in her pathway seems to spring
All that is sweet or rare,—
Chrysalis quaint, or the moth's bright wing,
Or flower-buds strangely fair.
She watches the tiniest bird's-nest hid
The thickly clustering leaves amid;
And the small brown tree-toad on her arm
Quietly hops, and fears no harm.

Ah, child of the laughing eyes, and heart
Attuned to Nature's voice!
Thou hast found a bliss that will ne'er depart
While earth can say, "Rejoice!"
The years must come, and the years must go;
But the flowers will bloom, and the breezes blow,
And bird and butterfly, moth and bee,
Bring on their swift wings joy to thee!