A YOUNG FIR-WOOD

A YOUNG FIR-WOOD

These little firs to-day are things

     To clasp into a giant’s cap,

     Or fans to suit his lady’s lap.

From many winters many springs

     Shall cherish them in strength and sap

     Till they be marked upon the map,

A wood for the wind’s wanderings.

All seed is in the sower’s hands:

     And what at first was trained to spread

     Its shelter for some single head, —

Yea, even such fellowship of wands, —

     May hide the sunset, and the shade

     Of its great multitude be laid

Upon the earth and elder sands.