A BIRD, a wild-flower and a tree —
I care for them, not they for me.
I see all heaven in a pool —
But the frog there takes me for a fool.
To this dead thrush a tear I gave —
All Spring shall sing above my grave,
And naught I spend my heart upon
Know lack or loss that I am gone —
A bird, a wild-flower and a tree,
I cherish them; they suffer me!