The little cares that fretted me
I lost them yesterday among the birds above the sea
Among the winds at play
Among the flowing of the herdes
The rusting of the trees
Among the singing of the bees
Among the dance of the flowers
The foolish fears of what might happen
I cast them all way
Among the clover scented grass
Among the new moon hay
Among the hushing of the corn
Where drowsy poppies nod
Where all thoughts die
And good are born out in the fields with God.
i
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