Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1856-01-11
|loriifai 5rlrtttons.
TIE BAREFOOT BOY.
~ JOHN g. WHITTIER.

~ JOHN @. WHITTIER.
Blessings on thee, little mani
Haruloo, boy, with cheek Of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And the merry whisiled tunes
With the red lip redder still,
Kissed by strawberries on the hill
With the sunshine on the face
Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace
From my heart / give thee joy
] was ouce a barefoot boy.
Prince thou art--the grown up man
Only is republican.
let the milliOn-dollared ride
Barefoot trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he c.in buy,
In the reach Of ear and eye
Outward sunshine, inward joys
Blessing on thee, barefoot boy!
Oh! Tor boyhood's painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day;
Health that mocks the doctors rules,
knowledge never learned Of schools,
or the wild bees morning chase,
OF the wild flowers time and place,
Flight Of fowl and habitude
OF the tenants Of the wood,
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his welli
How the robin feeds her young,
How the orioles nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow
Where the gound-nut trails in vine,
Where tie wood-gapes' clusters shines
OF the black wasp's cunning way,
Mason Of his walls Of clay,
And the architectural plans
OF gray hornet artisans!
For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he talks,
Face to face with her he walks,
Part and parcel Of her joy
Blessings on the barefoot boy!
OH for boyhood's time Of juno,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things heard or saw.
Ne, their master, waited for.
was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming birds and honey bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Piled the shouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone,
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook foF my delight,
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel-pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine the bending orchard trees,
Apples Of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grewimy riches tooi
Al the world saw or knew,
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for barefoot boy,
Oh! for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl Of milk and bread
Pewter spoons and bowls Of wood,
On the door stone gray and rudel
Ger me Ike a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed the sunset bent,
Purple curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
OF the pied frogs orchestra:
And, TO light the noisy choir,
Lit the fy his lamp of fire.
] was monarch; pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy
Cheerily then, my little man,
Live and laugh as bOyho0d cam
Though the finty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new mown swar
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool winds kiss the heat;
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride
Lost the freedom Of the sod,
Like colts for work beshod,
Made TO tread the mills of toll,
Up and down in ceaseless moil-
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground
Happy If they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands Of sin.
All. that thou could'st know the 10,
Ere il passes, barefoot boy,