Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running stream. In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of the village where I live. I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and know who I am. I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land in the night. I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky ...

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I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door; So I turned to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore; And I saw it was filled with graves, And tombstones where flowers should be; And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds, And binding with briers my joys and desires. ...

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Awake, awake my little Boy! Thou wast thy Mother's only joy: Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep? Awake! thy Father does thee keep. "O, what land is the Land of Dreams? What are its mountains, and what are its streams? O Father, I saw my Mother there, Among the lillies by waters fair. Among the lambs clothed in white She walked with her Thomas in sweet delight. I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn - O when shall I return again?" Dear child, I also by pleasant streams Have ...

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