Nature’s splendid fables, Enfold hearts in their care; For each behold these stories, The earth becomes a rare affair. From the swift green streamlet, To the mountain’s crown, Shall the boughs tremble softly, When the winds from fables drown. Oh, in gardens where I wander, Softly drowsing, think of home, In the memories that I gather. Nature sings back with its poem.

• Robert Browning