374 SUCCESS WITH SMALL FRUITS, 



Spun all thy shining threads of vine, 

 Netting the fields in bond as thine ; 

 I see thy tendrils drink by sips 

 From grass and clover's smiling lips ; 

 I hear thy roots dig down for wells, 

 Tapping the meadow's hidden cells ; 

 Whole generations of green things, 

 Descended from long lines of springs, 

 I see make room for thee to bide, 

 A quiet comrade by their side ; 

 I see the creeping peoples go 

 Mysterious journeys to and fro ; 

 Treading to right and left of thee. 

 Doing thee homage wonderingly. 

 I see the wild bees as they fare 

 Thy cups of honey drink, but spare ; 

 I mark thee bathe, and bathe again, 

 In sweet, uncalendared spring rain. 

 I watch how all May has of sun 

 Makes haste to have thy ripeness done. 

 While all her nights let dews escape 

 To set and cool thy perfect shape. 

 Ah, fruit of fruits, no more I pause 

 To dream and seek thy hidden laws 1 

 I stretch my hand, and dare to taste 

 In instant of delicious waste 

 On single feast, all things that went 

 To make the empire thou hast spent. 



