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I Thank Heaven Every Summer's Day



I thank Heaven every Summer's day of my life,
That my lot was humbly cast
Within the hearing of romping brooks,
And beneath the shadow of oaks.
And from all the tramp and bustle of the world,
Into which fortune has led me in these latter years of my life,
I delight to steal away for days
And for weeks together,
And bathe my spirit in the freedom of the old woods,
And to grow young again,
Lying upon the brookside
And counting the white clouds that sail along the sky,
Softly and tranquilly,
Even as holy memories go stealing over the vault of life.

- Donald G. Mitchell



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