Page:Poems and lyrics of the joy of earth.djvu/116

Rh Every woodland tree is flushing like the dog-wood,
 * Flashing like the whitebeam, swaying like the reed.

Flushing like the dog-wood crimson in October;
 * Streaming like the flag-reed South- West blown;

Flashing as in gusts the sudden-lighted whitebeam:
 * All seem to know what is for heaven alone.