869 
H. E. G. ABET. 
And I was smart , and all the springs 
On all the hills could show; 
And. if there were some grammar things 
I didn’t care to know, 
I always knew how many houghs 
The latest tempest broke, 
And just how far the woodpecker 
Had girdled round the oak. 
I knew the tree where slept the crows: 
And, on the water’s brim, 
I climbed among the hemlock boughs, 
To watch the fishes swim. 
I knew,* beside the swollen rill, 
What flowers to bloom would burst; 
And where, upon the south-sloped hill, 
The berries ripened first. 
Each violet tuft, each cowslip green, 
Each daisy on the lea, 
I counted one by one—for they 
Were kith and kin to me. 
I knew the moles that dared to claim 
The vanished beavers’ huts ; 
And sat on mossy logs to watch 
The squirrels crack their nuts: 
