THOUGHTS
I always think when I see a bird, Sitting on a tree, If suddenly he sang no more, How lonely the world would be. And if the gorse that grows on the hill, Should slop and bloom no more, lin'd be wishing for It to conic back itgu i n, As ice never had wished before. Oh.' If the wind was always soft. And never went rushing by, i e trees would never be able to dance, And surely they would die. I think it's only small things that count In this little world of ours— The music of birds, the sung of the wind, Ami the perfume of fresh spring flowers. —“Jacobiua.”
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Bibliographic details
Dominion, Volume 26, Issue 218, 10 June 1933, Page 19
Word Count
114THOUGHTS Dominion, Volume 26, Issue 218, 10 June 1933, Page 19
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