Excerpt from Rhymes of Our NeighborhoodLittle Boy Blue, across the fields I wind my horn to measures old, Or seek the rainbow's ravelled end To gather fancy's fading gold.I know where lie the hidden roots Of unborn blossoms, and I dream Dissolving dreams of deathless things And follow, follow still the gleam, The light whereof my toils are vain To fix in any woof of song; Yet who shall bid me hold my peace ten crowding visions round me throng?Believe me, friends, how e'er it seem, The strife for art is worth its cost, And though, unsatisfied, we fall And are forgot, we are not lost; And all that has appealed to us, To woo us upward, is divine; The gleam shall grow, the buds shall blow And still their joy be your's and mine.The little things of home and love, The weeds that blossom by the path, The bluebirds singing on the rails Such joys as country childhood hath: To day let me be taught of these, Nor seek to fly on wanton wing Too far in those diviner skies Where mighty poets soar and sing!And, friends, be this our evening song Of hopes deferred and dangers shared Thank God! Through all the toil and doubt, What e'er betide us, we have fared.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.