I had no where to go, I had no money to spend: “O come with me,” the Beaver said, “I live at the world's end.”
“Does the world ever end!” To the Beaver then said I: “O yes! the green world ends,” he said, “Up there in the blue sky.”
I walked along with him to home, At the edge of a singing stream — The little faces in the town Seemed made out of a dream.
I sat down in the little house, And ate with the kind things — Then suddenly a bird comes out Of the bushes, and he sings:
“Have you no home? O take my nest, It almost is the sky;” And then there came along the creek A purple dragon-fly.
“Have you no home?” he said; “O come along with me, Get on my wings — the moon's my home” — The dragon-fly said he.
The Bee was told by a young Bat A man had need of home; He flew away at once, and said “Come to my honeycomb!”
Even the butterfly, A painted hour; Said to the homeless one: “I know a flower.”
The Ant came slowly, Late, of course, but still Bringing the tiny welcome Of his hill.
The tired turtle, Fumbling through the wood, Came, asking hospitably “If I would?”
Even a hornet came, With sheathed sting,— He never yet had seen So lost a thing!
There was his nest Up in the singing boughs, Among the pears, A fragrant humming house.
And even little Stupid things that crawl Among the reeds, deeming That that is all,
Came a long weary way To bid me home. A snake said: “In the world there is a place
Where you can lie And dream of her white face.” The moss said: “Your blue eyes Need my green sleep”;
The willow said: “Ah! when You weep I weep.” Wonderful earth Of little kindly things,
That buzz and beam And flitter little wings! Over the sexton's grave The growing grass
Cried out: “Come home! I am alive, alas!”
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