The Poetry of Shelter. 121 



The glittering sunshine calls me out of doors, 

 or, now, from a doorless house, and I do not 

 leave, I trust, unmindful of the merits of this 

 modest shelter. Trees have a new meaning 

 now to me. Not only their leafy branches, but 

 their bodies, offer shelter, so I have more homes 

 on earth than I ever dreamed of. When the 

 storm breaks, a man need not be unhappy in a 

 hollow tree. It affords the protection that he 

 asked, and what more had he a right to expect ? 

 But there is also added the goodly gift of de- 

 lightful suggestiveness. 



