I wandered in the solemn wood To pick the acorns from the ground. I even knew a place where good And choicest acorns could be found. And so I strolled beneath the trees, And felt the gentle whispering breeze. And soon I passed beneath the shade Of that old tree the master oak, And strode in silence through the glade, E'en though the sky resembled smoke. I looked above and saw the clouds, Those great majestic ghostly shrouds. My trail led onward, gently on; A beaten path still marks the way; A squirrel leaped and then was gone; I wondered why he would not stay, But then I knew his nature wild, And as he scampered off, I smiled. I love the woods, I love the trail, I love the acorns on the ground. They have a cap and coat of mail, And easily they can be found. Oh beaten path lead on, lead on, And mark the way so gladly gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHANSON INNOCENTE: 1, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 4. REVEILLE by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN WORLD'S WORTH by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI AS THE TEAM'S HEAD BRASS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS THE NUANCES OF MENDACITY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |