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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.

72.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.

73.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.

74.The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred
affections,
They scorn the best I can do to relate them.

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