|
Into the
Park the happy children
come;
They come to voyage in
another world;
Where stands the Zoo, lies
darkest Africa;
Where lakes are spread the
waves are ocean swelled,
Thick as a haunted forest
are the woods,
While grass, gem-patterned,
all the parkway fills.
High in
the sky a little wandering
sheep,
Cloud sheep, are gamboling
in their fields of blue,
When evening comes and gold
to silver turns,
Like doves, the children
turn again to home.
Not
children only, find their
ideals here
In this great space.
Grown people love at times
The Nature touch, that makes
each one more kind;
For here, love, recreation,
song are found.
Deep in
the hill-side's living
greenery
Gleaming and white a
monument stands to him
Who gave these acres for
the people's park.
He may have thought as did
the ancient bard--
"Let me but make the
people's songs
I care not who makes their
laws." |
