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“What would you see, if I took you up To my little nest in the air? You would see the sky like a clear blue cup Turned upside downwards there. What would you do if I took you there To my little nest in the tree? My child with cries would trouble the air, To get what she could but see. What would you get in the top of the tree For all your crying and grief? Not a star would you clutch of all you see -- You could only gather a leaf. But when you had lost your greedy grief, Content to see from afar, You would find in your hand a withering leaf, In your heart a shining star.” — George MacDonald
What would you see, if I took you up
To my little nest in the air?
You would see the sky like a clear blue cup
Turned upside downwards there.
What would you do if I took you there
To my little nest in the tree?
My child with cries would trouble the air,
To get what she could but see.
What would you get in the top of the tree
For all your crying and grief?
Not a star would you clutch of all you see --
You could only gather a leaf.
But when you had lost your greedy grief,
Content to see from afar,
You would find in your hand a withering leaf,
In your heart a shining star.