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38 And consider green and violet, and the tufted crown,
 * intentional,

And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is
 * not something else,

And the mocking-bird in the swamp never studied the
 * gamut, yet trills pretty well to me,

And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out
 * of me.

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool
 * night,

Ya-honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an
 * invitation;

The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen
 * close,

I find its purpose and place up there toward the
 * wintry sky.

The sharp-hoofed moose of the north, the cat on the
 * house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog,

The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her
 * teats,

The brood of the turkey-hen, and she with her half-
 * spread wings,

I see in them and myself the same old law.

The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred
 * affections,

They scorn the best I can do to relate them.

I am enamoured of growing outdoors, Of men that live among cattle, or taste of the ocean
 * or woods,