The world's so full of dear things, Of nice things and queer things; Girls with curls, Peacocks and pearls, Morning dew, hoar-frost, too, And little homey near things. There are vine-hung walls, And stately halls Where Dons march to and fro, And far up there, A cross in air Where wheeling starlings go. There are blackbirds And redbirds, And butterflies and bees; There's flowering almond in the spring, And green-striped tulip-trees. There are autumn leaves And rainbows, And white clouds floating high; Cool green waves, 'Bove coral caves, And white ships sailing by. There's winter's snows Where holly grows, And pine trees, straight and tall. The world's so full of dear things, Of nice things and queer things. How can I leave them all? |